


The Internship

by sleeplesstara



Series: The Internship Series [1]
Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Anxiety, Dream Sex, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kitchen Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Plot, Porn With Plot, Ransom Drysdale Being an Asshole, References to Depression, Sexual Tension, Smut, Unprotected Sex, only one scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22238023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplesstara/pseuds/sleeplesstara
Summary: Isla Gibbs was practically forced into an internship at the Blood Like Wine Publishing Company at the request of her graduate studies supervisor. What she expected was a boring six months of filling paperwork and going on coffee runs. What she didn't expect was to be embroiled within the dramatic antics of the Thrombey family.Let alone be the subject of enamoration of Ransom Drysdale.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Original Character(s), Ransom Drysdale/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Internship Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768765
Comments: 60
Kudos: 151
Collections: My_Favourite_Books_





	1. August

It was moments like these where her mind was racing hysterically, unable to control the active memories flooding back of what lead to this exact situation. Never in a million years would she had expected to be in the vicinity of Ransom Drysdale without having the visceral reaction of recoiling with disgust. _Prick,_ she thought, mentally cursing him at the sheer disrespect he had displayed throughout their various encounters.

_Yet._

Here she was, his hand muffling the moans escaping her parted lips as he pushed himself into her more deeply. He pressed his chest firmly onto her back, his lips reminding her to be more quiet, ensuring they wouldn’t get caught. The distinct argument from the living room returned to her consciousness, hearing the stifled voice of Walter calling Joni a hippie quack through the wooden door Isla was currently against. It probably wasn’t the best idea to follow Ransom into the coat closet of the Trombey estate, considering there were other, _and roomier_ , options available. It didn’t seem logical now that she thought about it, but then again, this entire situation was far from logical.

Retrospectively, _none_ of it was logical. 

* * *

> _She watched as he slipped off his leather jacket, the burning cigarette hanging between his lips as he spoke. The smoke in the air was metaphorical, as if Jason was letting his life fly past him, diffusing into the abyss of the night sky. God did she want to pull that cigarette out of his mouth and kiss him in that moment._
> 
> _“Abby, I told you not to fall for me. I’m just trouble. I don’t want to get you hurt.”_
> 
> _“Jason, you could never hurt me. I love you.” She whispered, pushing a strand of her golden locks behind her hair. “I have never felt more alive than when I’m with you.”_
> 
> _Jason pulled the cigarette from his mouth, flicking it onto the floor before closing the gap between them._
> 
> _“Babe, you just made me the happiest man alive.”_

After reading for practically half an hour, Isla had lost all ability to stay quiet after reading that passage. A soft chuckle managed to escape her lips as she leaned further back into her chair, her head involuntarily shaking from side to side as she reread the same lousy paragraph. _You’ve got to be kidding me_ , she thought to herself, unable to fathom how these undergrads even got into Boston University to begin with. You would think since this was a third-year course, the quality of writing from the students would be at least subpar. Apparently that assumption did not stand. At that point, both Isla’s brain and her sanity needed a break from reading these _God-awful_ creative writing papers. She took that as to opportunity to reach forward, grabbing a hold of her mug. The now lukewarm latte felt replenishing the second it hit her lips, her eyes darting down to the mug’s contents, noticing the foam had begun to harden around the rim of the glassware.

Placing her mug down on the table, she leaned back into her seat, deciding she had earned a break after working the greater portion of the afternoon. Isla’s arms reached back, unleashing a deep yawn originating from her diaphragm. This, grading papers for the undergraduate class she was TAing in, in this coffee shop, at this time of day, had practically become routine at this point. Every Sunday morning, she would sleep in until about 10:30am, grab her stack of ungraded papers and take the Green Line to one of her favourite cafés uptown. Usually she would be there by noon, at that point the café would still be fairly quiet.

She picked the same table, the one facing the store’s front window. Not only did it have a great view of the John Adams Courthouse, but the table had this little orchid she was very fond of. She relished when she would notice the plant grew slightly from the previous week. Ander, the Sunday opener, was always polite when she walked in, and always had her drink ready for when she’d arrive. Usually he would make her the same chai latte with extra cinnamon, however, would sometimes try to change it up when they had a new specialty drink. Although Isla preferred her chai latte, she happily accepted whenever he offered to make her a new drink. In most cases, she always preferred her regular. The only time he thoroughly impressed her was with a white chocolate peppermint mocha, which was now her go to during the holiday season.

Although well established, unfortunately, her routine will be interrupted starting tomorrow, at least until further notice. After returning the last stack of papers tomorrow to her thesis supervisor, Isla is officially starting her internship at the Blood Like Wine Publishing Company. The opportunity was something entirely unexpecting, and was even more surprising when she was able to secure the position. Isla’s thesis supervisor, Dr. Beckham, had mentioned in passing earlier in the year of an internship possibility. In actuality, Isla was far less interested in the publishing component of fiction writing, wanting to focus more on the _actual_ writing part. That was kind of the point of doing her Masters in creating writing, to learn how to effectively write compelling fictional stories. Maybe even nudge her in a particular book genre, which she had yet to decide which would be her staple.

However, as Dr. Beckham had often recited to her, almost by memory now, part of fictional writing is being part of the politics of publishing. The thought of Dr. Beckham slouched back onto his plum office chair, his circular glasses barely gripping onto the tip of his nose as he spoke methodically. The fullness of his salt and pepper beard moving rhythmically as he spoke, it being more salt than pepper these past few months. “Gibbs, no matter how good your book is, you can’t get a book published if you don’t have a publishing company backing you up. Then it just becomes a paper weight that took too long to make.”

This meant maintaining professional relationships with fellow writers and publishers within the field were a must. For Dr. Beckham, this included the seasoned author Harlan Thrombey, the creative mind being Blood Like Wine. After attending a writer’s conference earlier in the summer, Harlan had mentioned to Dr. Beckham that his son Walter Thrombey was in need of a new intern for the publishing company. Before she knew it, Dr. Beckham had offered her name for consideration, followed by an impromptu meeting during Dr. Beckham’s office hours with Harlan attending. And just like that, Isla was the recipient of this new internship.

Thankfully the company was established in the city, so there would be no need to travel long distance during the following six months. Unfortunately for her, it meant her own academic writing would be put on hiatus until further notice. That being said, she knew she could make the most out of it. Even if Blood Like Wine hasn’t published anyone but Harlan since its conception, she knew they were well connected. This was an affiliation that she could take advantage of further down the line. Again, she wasn’t very keen on writing mystery novels, but knew it was better than nothing. It was also known within the fictional writing community of Boston that the Thrombeys had their fair share of familial drama. Worst-case scenario, she gets enough gossip to write a tell-all at the end of the six months.

_Maybe make sure it’s published as fictional writing, just in case the Thrombeys want to sue for defamation._

Regardless, she knew instinctively she would be more entertained at the publishing company than reading another overused writing trope about a goody-two shoes girl falling for the bad boy. She may need a shot of tequila in her latte to get through another one of those.

* * *

Alright, she had to admit it wasn’t all that bad. Was the work boring? Yes, she’d rather watch paint dry. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her working day filling order forms and calling the manufacture to ensure shipments were on time. Even more demeaning was the coffee runs she would often be called for, mostly by Walter. Sure, he had reduced mobility, and the office was on the 17th floor. U _nderstandable_. However, it was less understandable when other executives, accountants, marketing consultants, or Walter’s sister, Linda Drysdale, would ask for the same. Yes, Isla was the only intern in the entire company, but as a woman in academia, it didn’t really sit well with her.

Other than the boredom and the patronizing undertones of the job, generally Blood Like Wine was an okay place to work. Commonly, her work was done quickly, giving Isla a lot of free time to work on her thesis. Most employees were nice, again when they weren’t bombarding her with coffee requests. Walter was probably the most supportive, even though he knew she would be working on other things during office hours, actively turning a blind eye when he caught her.

Isla had gotten the impression that although Walter was in charge of the publishing company’s daily operation, he didn’t have much of a backbone in terms of authority. This ideology was well established when she realized Linda’s visits were more routine than spontaneous. This puzzled Isla at first, since she was well aware (as were most employees in the office) that Linda was the head of her own real estate agency. “I built my company from the ground up!” Isla would often hear through the thin walls of the break room, Linda asserting her authoritative judgment whenever she had a spat with Walter. If she had her own business, why bother micromanaging Walter with how he ran his own?

Countless time over the course of her first month, she watched as Linda, or even Harlan himself, waltzed into Walter’s office and make demands. Most were harmless, focusing more on scheduling for upcoming books being published or event appearances for Harlan. Although, there was one time when Linda came in to give Walter an earful, displaying his incompetency to the employees when it came to making an executive decision (according to Linda, a decision that could have cost the company six figures). Isla couldn’t even remember what Walter did that triggered Linda so badly. All she remembered was Walter withdrawing like a turtle back into his shell, waiting for the whole storm to blow over. He was passive, to say the least, but was appreciative of Isla’s work. Even if she wasn’t focused for the entirety of the workday, she would at least get her work done in an efficient and timely manner.

Feeling her glasses begin to slip down her nose, Isla quickly pushed them back in place, her eyes still focused on the damn Excel spreadsheet on her screen. She let out a deep sign as she doubled checked the order form, ensuring the numbers were okay before submitting the order. As her eyes quickly scanned over the numbers, she reached for the white Starbucks cup on her desk, taking a long sip of her warm drink before placing it back on the table. Thankfully she was able to maintain her attention until the order was placed, her gaze soon shifting when she heard a door slam from Walter’s office.

Her eyes locked with the familiar suede brown overcoat and hideous Gucci scarf she had gotten used to seeing. She rolled her eyes from behind the computer screen, shifting her attention back to read over the confirmation email. She could hear him huffing to himself as he walked towards the exit, the path including a short appearance by Isla’s desk. At that point, Isla forced herself not to glance up as his stomps approached her, knowing he didn’t even deserve the time of day, let alone an acknowledgement of his current tantrum. _Asshole_ , she mentally groaned out, feeling herself tense up slightly once he finally passed by her. She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until he was out of her field of vision, Isla practically gasping for air when she began breathing again.

An earlier memory intrusively appeared in her consciousness, recounting the first time she ever met Ransom Drysdale. She had previously heard he was a piece of work, mostly through Walter and subsequently Linda when she would make an impromptu appearance. As cliché as it may be, Isla was never one to really judge a book by its cover (or biased familial reviews). Isla wanted to make her own impression.

First week of her internship she made the mistake of drinking the coffee from the break room. It was terrible, to be blunt, but she wanted to be polite. She probably should have gotten the hint that it was bad when all the other employees would ask her to go for coffee runs, but being socially deductive is not part of Isla’s charm.

However, there was one person who enjoyed the office coffee, and would often come into the break room before storming off _God knows_ where. Consequently, Isla happened to be in the break room when Ransom had decided to get some coffee. Isla quietly sipped from a Spoopy mug she previously found in the kitchen cabinet, her thumb simultaneously scrolling through her Instagram feed, trying to keep herself entertained before being forced to return to work. Her attentiveness soon shifted focus, actively following the restless man pacing in the break room’s kitchen. He was being anything but discrete, Isla hearing the clattering of the mugs and plates as Ransom furiously searched the contents of the cabinets. 

“Are you looking for something specific?” Isla asked, her back instinctively straightening out as she tried to look over his shoulder to be of assistance. She didn’t know what kind of answer she was expecting after asking the question, but she didn’t expect what followed.

The stranger turned to face the voice calling out to him, his eyebrows furrowed more intensely. “That’s my fucking mug,” He blurted out, rolling his eyes before turning his attention back to the cabinet. “Whatever, just don’t use it next time.” He added, grabbing a clean white ceramic mug that had the Blood Like Wine Publishing logo on the front.

Completely taken aback, Isla’s eyes grew in astonishment. _Wow, that must be Ransom_. Although the attitude was enough to determine his identity, the various family photos from around the office were enough to put a face to the infamous name. _Maybe this was a hiccup, maybe he's not usually like this_ , Isla tried to convince herself.

“Oh sorry, I’m new so I’m still trying to learn whose stuff belongs to who. I’ve never seen someone use this mug, so I assumed it was communal. Sorry.” She added again, giving him the benefit of the doubt. She had outbursts from time to time, _usually mentally_ , but she cannot fault others for not being able to hold in their emotions. Right?

Without a response, Ransom reached the coffee pot to pour the lukewarm liquid into his mug, turning his attention back to the stranger. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he examined her more attentively this time. As he placed the mug against his lips, his eyes fixated on her features, memorizing the creaminess of her hazel eyes and the fullness of her rosy lips. His eyes shifted down slightly to her slender neck, instinctively beginning to imagine what his hand would look like around it. Before he knew it, his eyes began trailing down to her legs, slightly disappointed that she had them entirely covered with dark blue denim jeans. Maybe next time he’s around she’d be wearing a skirt.

_Wow. Pig._

“You must be the new intern?” He finally asked after taking a second gulp, his eyes returning to match her eyesight.

She stuttered, unsure how to continue with the conversation. This wasn’t the first time a man was checking Isla out so openly, but the forwardness in the workplace seemed misplaced. “Uh yeah, my name’s Isla. I just started this week. You must be Ransom?” She inquired, ready to give him another chance.

The sound of his name instinctively caused a smirk to appear on his lips, his head shaking slightly as he began to pace towards the door. He was done with this conversation. “My friends call me Ransom, you can call me Hugh.” He added before disappearing into the corridor.

_Nope, never mind._

_He is an asshole._

Isla changed her mind. She hated it here.


	2. September

“Oh _God,_ are you serious?” Walter groaned out, his eyes squinting at the dismay of Ransom’s antics. He leaned back into his chair, his left hand rubbing the wrinkling skin on his forehead. He began shaking his head from side to side, eyes kept closed. He seemed more than just annoyed. If anything, exasperated. The nuances of Walter’s submissive mannerisms, and frankly overall management style, were being challenged. Though, this didn’t stem out of nowhere. Isla began noticing it over the past couple of days.

Walter was more on edge, more inclined to actively say what was on his mind. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out something had definitely happened. Isla assumed it was something that happened outside of office hours, probably something to do with his overbearing family. Since her arrival, Isla tried to fathom why practically every Thrombey member was heavily codependent on one another. Dependent on this company. This was more than just financial dependence, something that Isla had soon come to understand. If it was just about the money, every member would passively accept their monthly allowance and keep it shut. But they didn’t. There was a continuous influx of Thrombey visits on a weekly basis. Most came from Linda, of course. She practically elected herself as head of the company, her voice and ego often overshadowing Walter’s rightful position. It was more than just Linda wanting to be in charge. She also wanted to let Harlan know Walter was incompetent. Stupid, even. Isla was dipping into Freudian ideologies at this point, trying to rationalize her behaviour. This wasn’t her job.

Harlan, of course, had a strong presence to himself. He routinely came by, every Friday afternoon, usually around 1pm. On the dot. He always had the final say, especially when there was a disagreement between the siblings. Other than that, he would actively turn a blind eye. Screaming matches between Linda and Walter would end with Harlan blaming his misplaced attention on his age. Frankly, Harlan was sharper than any of his children combined. He knew Walter’s ambitions were often blinded by his need to please his father. He knew Linda would be right more often than not. But he couldn’t tell him that, especially with the more minute of details. So instead, he let Linda say what Harlan couldn’t.

The rest of the Thrombeys would make less appearances. Richard would come by from time to time, often picking up a file that Linda would leave in her office, always giving Isla a thoughtful smile as he passed by her desk. Once, Joni came during Harlan’s weekly visit, their discussion muffled by his office walls. Isla was able to decipher something about her allowance. The last Thrombey that would often be in attendance was Hugh. _No, Ransom_.

This one was by far the most puzzling to her. Everyone had an actual motive for sticking around. But Ransom? From the eavesdropping Isla had done, she was able to piece together that he had a more “Carpe Diem” type of lifestyle. He really had no roots in this company, never tried to really establish himself as an active partner. Arguably, he had nothing holding him down at all. No education. No steady job. No long-term relationship. He was just the prototype rich kid that didn’t really have to work for anything in his life. Isla wouldn’t be surprised if he’d never worked for anyone period. The only thing she did know was Ransom spent a summer helping Harlan doing research on a novel. Mostly focusing on the authenticity of a more intricate murder mystery he was trying to create. But that was years ago. The book was already published, the money was already made. Ransom didn’t have a stake in anything, so why bother sticking around so much?

Overall, the amalgamations of these familial dynamics (at least in the workplace) were more chaotic than beneficial. Countless hours, days, were wasted with “executive” meetings where nothing was achieved between the different parties. Isla often had to assist in these meetings, being tasked with keeping notes for Walter of the more important points. Many times, she would walk out of those meetings without writing down anything substantial. She considered physically writing down more honest summaries.

  * _Linda is vetoing Walt’s idea to start a new website, doesn’t want to give another platform for millennials to “complain”_
  * _Harlan isn’t a fan of the revised logo, called it “fucking horseshit”_
  * _Something about a shitsack? Never heard that one before_
  * _Ransom wants to hire Instagram models to shoot for book covers. Suggest we pay them with shoutouts. Pretty sure that was supposed to be a joke, but Walt is considering it_



She instead decided to mentally write them down, opting to wait for a night out with friends to spill all of the Thrombey gossip. But all of this wasn’t the source of Walter’s newfound exacerbation. He was tired. He had enough, whatever it was. Was his ownership of the company diluted? Was another one of his ideas rejected by Harlan? She probably shouldn’t speculate while meeting with Walter. Maybe later on when she would be trying to kill time. Finally, after a prolonged pause, Walter spoke again. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just being an ass. He makes the help call him Hugh, thinks it’s some kind of a power move.”

Isla completely forgot how the conversation got started in the first place. The events leading up to this moment were practically blurred, though the memory of her catching Walter up with what happened on his day off was intact. Mostly missed calls, one meeting that had to be rescheduled, and Ransom stopping by. That’s what broke Walter’s attention away, me mistakenly calling him Hugh. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe Hugh did something to upset him?

_Fuck, I need to stop calling him that._

“Right. Well, _Ransom_ came by yesterday. Said it was something important, didn’t want to leave a message about what it was.” She corrected. Isla already knew that Ransom used his real name as a way to demean others. The psychology behind that was fascinating to say the least, titillating enough to write a book on it. Ransom’s narcissism and sense of grandiosity were so transparent it was practically textbook. Yet, he intentionally tried to present himself as sly and mysterious. He kept his discussions to a minimum, only adding to the conversation when needed. Mostly to instigate conflict, which he would later relish in satisfaction. He never really spoke about what was on his mind.

But on the other hand, it was easy to figure out exactly what he was thinking. It was almost primitive, Isla noticed. He’d audibly groan out when his mother would lecture him about God knows what. He’d actively mock his father’s tone when their paths crossed in the office. His eyes would shift down whenever Isla walked past him, never letting an opportunity slip to check her out. He’d comment on her outfit, especially if it was something that he liked. From their limited interactions, Isla knew he was a big fan of satin camis and turtleneck sweater dresses. He never explicitly said he did, but his gaze would linger a little longer and eyebrows would furrow slightly. He’d sometimes fidget with his Apple Watch, or bite down on his tongue. The longer she worked at Blood Like Wine, he’d start to get more comfortable and would purposefully try to make physical contact.

“Sorry,” he’d say, his fingertips lightly pressing against her hips as he moved past her in the break room, his other hand reaching over to grab his Snoopy mug from the cabinet. He’d drop something in front of her, knowing _damn_ well she’d get up and help, his palms desperately seeking contact with her soft skin, his grin growing by the second once he got what he wanted. He thought he was being sneaky, like he was pulling a fast one on her.

But she knew. And she let him think so. It was easier for her to know she always had an edge on him. Mostly because he was an asshole, and she wanted to know he couldn’t blindly manipulate her. Something he wasn’t smart enough to realize yet. Although, her distaste of him was apparent. He knew she wanted nothing to do with him. This made him more satisfied that he was able to condition her into calling him Hugh. It amused him, mostly. He was happy for paying attention to one of his college level psychology classes. Although he never finished that class, he thanked Pavlov for the tip.

Walter’s hand was now on his keyboard, his attention turning back to his computer, signalling he was ready to get back to work. “Next time he comes around, tell him to get lost. You know, I’m not even sure why he keeps sticking his nose around here. It’s bad enough having his mother running around like she owns the fucking place.”

_That makes two of us, Walt._

She nodded her head at him, letting out a quick audible chuckle. “Sure thing, shouldn’t be too hard to do.” Isla figured it would probably be best to leave Walter alone until he requested something. She placed down the warm Starbucks cup from her hand on his desk before clutching her notebook a little closer to her chest.

“I forgot to give you your americano. Rest of your schedule should be open today, I think that’s it for now. Let me know if you need anything else.” Isla added, giving him a smile before turning her back to walk out of his office space.

“Thanks Isla, you’re a Godsent.”

* * *

_“Fuck, Ransom…” She whispered, eyelids growing heavier as moments passed. Her hand tightly gripped onto her bed sheet, crumpling it up like an old newspaper. The swirling sensation of his tongue between her legs was heavenly. Her free hand reached downward, fingertips gliding effortlessly into his dark brown hair, signalling to him that she wanted more. She was craving more. “Don’t make me beg for it.”_

_Ransom smirked against her skin, his eyes glancing upwards until their eyes connected. He placed his palm firmly onto her stomach, keeping her body in place while sucking on the plump and flushed skin between his lips. “Beg for what?” he teased, disconnecting from their erotic touch, leaving her absolutely helpless._

_“Ransom, please…” She whined, her hips fighting against his strengthen, urgently trying to reconnect with his mouth._

_“Babe, I told you to call me Hugh.”_

Isla gasped frantically, completely disoriented as she quickly sat up on her bed. Her hands reached up to her neck, feeling the phantom touch of his palms still lingering on her skin. She was gasping for air, her eyes blinking intensely as she looked around her bedroom. She was alone. It was just her. It was 3:22am. It was a stupid dream. _Fuck._

Once she came to terms with reality, her head dropped back into her mattress, taking a couple deep breaths as she tried to calm herself from the experience. She was completely aroused, her hands still stationary on her neck. She couldn’t believe she dreamt of him again.

The first time was after around her second week at Blood Like Wine. It was maybe after the third time she’d ever seen Ransom in person. She vaguely remembers their actual encounter, something about filing the wrong paperwork, the memory mostly plagued with the thoughts of the pure repugnance she felt towards him. He was selfish, and self-absorbed. This was the Ransom Drysdale Show and we were all extras. However, the encounter did reaffirm that he oozed confidence and self-assurance. Even if misplaced. It wasn’t something she was used to, especially since she spent the majority of her time with Walter. On top of that, Isla had working retinas, so of course she wasn’t blind to how physically attractive he was. It was a weird mixture of both repulsion and sexual frustration. Isla was used to a more vanilla outlook of sexual encounters. Mixing those nearly polar opposite emotions was something she wasn’t familiar with.

That night she dreamed of getting pushed against her desk, his assertive hands grabbing a fistful of her neck-length bob, pulling the richly pigmented brown hair back as his lips began devouring her neck with kisses. Her dainty fingertips pushed back his suede overcoat, her eyes watching as the fabric fell gracefully onto the floor. “Fuck, Isla.” He groaned against her skin, his knee kicking against her calf in order to have better access between her legs.

She remembered waking up that morning completely distraught, disgusted even. It was as if any power she thought she had on him was relinquished. He now infested her subconscious like a parasite. She didn’t know what this meant, nor did she wish to analyze further.

This time around, she was less inclined to be self-loathing of her sex dream. If anything, she was more upset by how cliché it was, seeing that recurring theme commonly in the undergraduate classes she TA’ed in. She instead tried to rationalize her behaviour, thinking it was probably because it had been a while since she’d been intimate. _Of course_ she was going to start fantasizing about the first conventionally good looking guy she saw. Even if he was a piece of shit. She knew he was an asshole. She knew he was up to no good.

_But damn, was that hot._

* * *

The thought of going into work that morning made Isla’s skin crawl. She was still hot and bothered from her dream, dreading the idea she may have to face him today. It was hard to shake those thoughts, even after trying to take care of her own arousal last night. Normally, she despised having Ransom around, mostly because he left extra dishes that she was in charge of cleaning up. But now she was praying he wouldn’t be around, at least until she could stop thinking about him.

_Get a grip girl, it’s not that serious._

But fate wouldn’t have it that way. That would be too kind.

Her eyes furrowed when she caught his reflection from the corner of her eye, her attention forcibly darting to her computer screen. She noticed him slowly walking towards her desk en route to Walter’s office. She noticed a smirk appear on his lips, causing her to question his newfound excitement.

_Goddamn Isla, did you really decide to wear a satin cami today?_

“Morning.” He lingered when he was close enough to her desk, his eyes glancing down at the exposed collarbones in her satin camisole. With lips pressed against his Snoopy mug, his eyes observed the lace detailing along its black seams. The reflection of the office lights was subtle against her delicate gold pendent around her neck, the reflected light rays keeping his attention longer than usually. Her hand, placed on her cheek, instantly felt hot against her palm. She felt a stinging pulse between her legs. The thought of last night’s dream came to her like a sexual awakening, unable to keep her attention on anything else. She crossed over her legs, trying to appease the sensation before turning to look over at him.

“Morning Ransom. Walter isn’t in yet, if you’re looking for him.” She added, taking in a short breath as she spoke. She watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, the wrist of his free hand flicking upwards to quickly check the time on his Apple Watch.

“When does he get back?” He demanded before returning his gaze to Isla, taking another big gulp from his break room coffee. 

“Not sure. He has a meeting somewhere in Brookline, may take a while.” She explained further, her attention shifting back to her computer screen. She wanted him to walk away, but he didn’t. It felt like an eternity, her trying to maintain her composure while patiently waiting for his response.

He smacked his lips together, causing Isla to quickly glance back up at him. He stared down his nose, his tone completely shifting, wanting to be more playful now that he knew he had time to kill. “No worries, I could just stay here until he gets back.”

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll just take a message and he’ll call you back when he’s in.” Isla replied, a little too abruptly. This made Ransom snicker. 

“Oh so you don’t want my company, Hemingway?” He teased, noticing how flushed she was getting, her exposed neck turning slightly pink. Ransom was clever. But he wasn’t very introspective, so he couldn’t be sure why she was blushing. He assumed it was because of the nickname he had given her after thoroughly teased her about being a writing major.

Isla took in a deep breath, not sure if she should defuse the situation by giving him a piece of her mind or walking out. She blinked a few times behind her round glasses before speaking again. “You know Hugh, you might think this back and forth is fun for me. But I actually do have a lot of work to get done.”

His first name sounded like honey to his ears, Ransom being unable to control his pleased expression. “Silly me, didn’t want to bother you. Just let Walt know I stopped by.”

“Will do.” She answered, breathing a sigh of relief when she noticed Ransom slowly starting to peel away. She quietly took in a gulp of air, knowing she could start to calm down again once he was out of her sight.

He turned his attention back to her for a quick second. “Top looks nice by the way.” He added, a little too loudly considering the distance between them wasn’t substantial. He did it on purpose. He wanted to make sure others in the office could hear.

He didn’t wait long enough to see her reaction, instead satisfied with the imagined result. Isla glanced down at her warm hands on her desk, mostly troubled at her own thoughts.

_It would probably look better on your bedroom floor._


	3. October

She wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep saying no to him. He was desperate at this point. His blue eyes were latched onto her, the muscles from his eyebrows maintaining their prominent contraction. Isla felt slightly uncomfortable at the prolonged stare, her eyes trailing downward momentarily to his growing beard. Grey hairs were noticeably sprinkled all around, the edges curling slightly from their length. She let out a sign, returning her gaze upwards. “Come on Walt, I can’t just go to Baltimore for the weekend. I’m still a student you know.” Isla explained, her tone sincere. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but she also didn’t want to go to Baltimore. 

“I know, I know. Please, I really need the extra help.” Walter added, once more. He shifted his weight onto his cane as he took a step towards her, other hand placed on his chest while he spoke. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but it would really mean a lot to me. If you’d like, you can take the following Monday and Tuesday off.”

That piece of information peaked Isla’s interest. Her facial muscles began relaxing, her lips now pursing together. Going to a writing conference for a weekend was one thing. Surely, it would probably be more entertaining than the work she was used to doing here. Now going into her third month of employment, her tasks had become procedural. The breaks from her routine would come from the excessive family drama. Even so, their arguments were getting repetitive at this point, them shuffling through the same major themes. Linda is argumentative, Walter is spineless, Harlan acts clueless and Ransom is an asshole. It was exhausting to watch; she couldn’t imagine actively participating in these disputes.

Baltimore, on the other hand, didn’t seem like a terrible idea. She had only been to the city once before but wasn’t fond of the trip. When she was younger, she went through a marine biology obsession, causing her family to soon exhaust the New England Aquarium visits. They decided to visit Baltimore to see their national aquarium, which was underwhelming for her. She hadn’t thought of visiting Baltimore since. Though, the idea of having the following Monday and Tuesday did seem more intriguing than the city itself. She was beginning to consider taking Walter up on his offer.

“And you said hotel and flight would be paid for?” She inquired.

“Exactly. Say the word and it gets charged to Harlan’s account.” He answered, a shy smile slowly appearing. It had been a long week for Walter. Things weren’t really working out in the workplace, primarily because Linda was making it harder than it needed to be. Financially, the company wasn’t doing so great either. According to Harlan, this was a natural part of the publishing cycle. Since it had been about a year since his last book, Blood Like Wine was very much overdue for another release, something that Harlan was currently working on.

Though, being cognitively aware of these peaks and valleys isn’t enough to truly subsidize the financial burden Walter was feeling. Jacob was starting to act up in school, something Isla _accidentally_ eavesdropped when passing by his office. All of these were deliberately kept from Donna, who was oblivious to his problems. He seemed like he was looking forward to his business trip alone, probably to add distance to his Boston problems. That was until Harlan insisted he be in attendance, throwing a wrench in Walter’s plans. He needed to have an extra buffer there with him, to help appease any tension between the father and son. He only thought of Isla, knowing she was exactly what he needed to make the trip less problematic. Harlan did enjoy Isla’s quiet demeanour. She was an efficient employee, but was always observative. Practically _scheming_ , Harlan remarked.

She squinted her eyes at Walter, teasingly. She then quickly relaxed her expression, giving him a small smile. “Alright fine I’ll go. But I’m taking that Monday and Tuesday off. And I wanna be back by Sunday night.” She added, practically demanding at that point, her finger pointing assertively at him.

He practically cooed at her, his slouched frame leaning back to shift his weight onto his cane. He let out a sign of relief. “Yes of course. Thank you so much Isla. I’ll let Harlan know and email you your flight and hotel details.”

* * *

Isla softly hummed to herself at her desk, her fingers tipping autonomously as she filled out another order form. Her legs crossed over one another, her right foot moving rhythmically with her melody. Throughout the week she was practically hyping herself up for the trip. The email confirmation of the hotel and flight details sent her into a frenzy. The hotel room that was booked at the Sagamore for her was exquisite, the Booking.com gallery of pictures displaying the sleek sophistication of the design. A large king size bed paired with a brown leather couch, huge floor to ceiling windows illuminating the room. The brown paneling and blue pops of colour gave it the illusion of a luxury fisherman’s hideout, something that appeased her Bostonian lifestyle. She hoped that the photos weren’t too much of an embellishment of what was actually to come. None the less, she was excited for the change of scenery.

Isla was going straight to the Logan airport after 5, knowing she had to be up early Saturday morning to attend the first presentation with Walter and Harlan. In preparation she brought her suitcase into the office, it lying prominently on the side of her desk. She thought she was being inconspicuous, putting it more off to the side by the wall. Although it did seem to catch the attention of a certain Blood Like Wine patron.

“Where ya heading off to Hemingway? Kilimanjaro?” Ransom asked, the sound of his jaw clenching down on the hard Biscoff cookie following soon after. The noise was something she had now been familiarize with. Isla’s good mood was quickly replaced with annoyance, her eyes mentally rolling to the back of her head. Though she wasn’t too fond of his impromptu appearances, she was happy that the sexual frustration she recently felt around him seemed to dissipate. Probably thanks to Brad from Tinder. She could now resume to throwing back her snarky comments without feeling her palms excessively sweat.

“You know, the more we talk the more I’m convinced you’ve done research on Hemingway to impress me.” She retorted, her eyes peering up from her computer screen.

His signature smirk was plastered on his lips, his Adam’s apple moving noticeably as he swallowed. His blue eyes, remarkably brighter than Walter’s, remained stationary on Isla’s, beginning to lean against her desk. He shifted his weight upwards, allowing himself to sit up straight on her desk. The assertion made Isla shift her attention back to the computer screen, her fingers pressing on the Print icon of her order confirmation. “Is Hemingway trivia not something that is common knowledge? Didn’t realize the world revolved around you.” Ransom countered, his fingertips reaching into the white bag to grab another cookie.

“Right back at ya.” She said, attention focused on retrieving the freshly printed paper, which thankfully was in a different room. “I better not start seeing white elephants around. May have to call security on you if I do.” She added, refusing to match the eye contact she observed from the corner of her eye. He was trying to intimidate her with his demeanor, showing his authority by physically being sat up higher than her. She wanted to take a new approach by ignoring his desperate attempts to get under her skin. He knew he got a kick from it, and knew she should try to limit her reactions.

She got up from her desk, hearing Ransom let out a chuckle as she paced her way into the copy room. “Come on sweetie,” He replied, a little louder to ensure she could still hear him as she walked away, “Leave the dirty talk for when we get home.”

“Asshole.”

_Well, so much for not letting him get under your skin._

“Ouf,” He exacerbated through grinned teeth, “Haven’t heard that on before. Have fun in Baltimore.” He added, his tone signalling he was done with the conversation. She immediately wondered how Ransom knew of the conference, instinctively turning around back to face Ransom. Her stomach dropped.

“You’re not coming, are you?”

He snorted, taking another bite from his cookie. “Oh God no, you couldn’t pay me shit to go to that shithole.” He added in between chews. “Besides, Marissa’s back in town. Probably will end up taking her down to Cape Cod for the weekend.”

She blinked to herself, mostly relieved that she wouldn’t be spending her delightful weekend with Ransom. She’d probably stab out her own eyes out by lunchtime. The wave of relief was quickly followed by disgust, vaguely remembering some of the detailed exploits Ransom would from time and time expand on while she was working. “Is that the one with the lip ring or the back tattoo?”

“Lip ring,” He grinned, giving her a quick wink before pushing himself back onto his feet.

 _Pig._ “God you’re gross.”

He smiled to himself, retracted his steps and pacing his way back into the break room. He stopped when he was close enough to Isla, his hand reaching forward to place the opening of the Biscoff bag towards her, inviting her to take a cookie for herself. She reached forward without thinking, knowing she was a big fan of those cookies. Countless times she would sneak a cookie from his personal stash from the break room, being careful to not get caught. She wondered if that was his way of letting her know he knew, or if he was being generous. Regardless, she got a cookie out of it.

“Thanks.” She mumbled after taking a bite, quickly disappearing into the copy room.

“Oh by the way, if you’re staying at the Sagamore, get the lamb rack.”

* * *

Walter was practically giddy the second he saw Isla walk into the ballroom, his leather messenger bag reserving a chair between him and Harlan. The act hadn’t gone over Harlan’s head, knowing well his presence wasn’t welcomed at the conference. Harlan wasn’t here to supervise Walter. On the contrary. He wanted to go as a learning experience. He struggled, more often than not, to keep up with his younger contemporaries. But he was never one to shy away from a learning opportunity from others. That was a great testament to his genius, never being too prideful, even after his undoubtable success. He was mostly interested at a panel given on the second day of the conference, focusing on the career trajectories of multiple crime scene investigators turned authors. According to the synopsis, they’d speak from their own experience and how it helped them transition into fictional writing. Harlan was hoping that the panel would cultivate new and fresh ideas for his current novel.

Walter, on the other hand, took the conference as more of a networking opportunity. He had been desperate to come with an ingenious idea to build up revenue, particularly during the more difficult months. He wanted to bring the publishing company into the new direction, but wasn’t really sure how to take such a big step. He feared his father’s more traditional opinions on running a successful business may pull his ideas from under the rug, but he was motivated, nonetheless. He wanted to make sure he had a methodical vision before bringing his idea to Harlan, partially the reason why he insisted Isla be around. Walter hoped she’d serve as a distraction for Harlan.

“Sorry I’m late,” Isla whispered under her breath, sneaking by a few chairs before propping herself onto her reserved seat, Walter removing his bag prior to. Her being stationary brought attention to her shortness of breath, her hand instinctively fanning over her flushed cheeks as a way to regulate her temperature.

“That’s fine, they barely started.” Walter replied, his hand shifting slightly onto the curvature of his cane while propping himself higher on his chair. Isla’s attention turned to Harlan momentarily, giving him a quick head nod as a good morning, him quickly returning the gesture. She began peeling off her coat, placing it behind her chair before reaching into her bag to grab a pen and notebook. Isla had ever intention on arriving early the night before. Though, those plans had soon dissipated upon her arrival. She had gotten to her hotel room that night at around 9pm. At that point, she was famished and in desperate need for a shower.

Apparently, the Thrombey/Drysdale clan were patrons to the Sagamore, which included receiving personalized welcome packages whenever they’d be in town. Who would have known Baltimore was such a novelist hub? Considering the room was under Harlan’s, she only assumed that the care package was for him. This was confirmed when she read the card that came with the package. That being said, the sparkling champagne and chocolate covered strawberries was something she couldn’t resist. That paired with the sight of a huge jacuzzi bathtub that wasn’t seen in her previous Booking.com research. 

While waiting for her warm bath to fill, her eyes quickly scanned through the room service menu. With her lips curled around her strawberry, she still managed to gasp at the sight of Ransom’s suggestion from earlier. $155 for a lamb rack? _Of course_ he’d suggest the most expensive thing on the menu. She rolled her eyes at his overt classism, feeling the juiciness of the strawberry drip down her chin, deciding to order the crab linguine dish instead. More sensible in her opinion, and the carbohydrates would be more filling.

Her bath was relaxing, the dish was satiating, and the champagne was phenomenal. It felt like only moments had passed when the clock struck midnight, Isla knowing very well she had to meet Walter and Harlan at the conference by 8am for the first presentation. The soft and engulfing duvets facilitated that transition into unconsciousness, her nestled comfortably within the sea of pillows. She felt comfortable enough to gratify herself prior to her slumber, inadvertently allowing Ransom to intrude her mind momentarily. Soon her phone alarm went off prominently, the gravitational pull of her bed forcing her to stay in longer than expected. She wouldn’t admit to the Thrombeys that she was late because she slept in, deciding instead to blame her ditzy mishap on getting in the wrong Uber.

Both men seem disinterested with her reason for being tardy. Truthfully, they were disinterested with the presentation in general. There wasn’t much enthusiasm about incorporating social issues into their writing. Although it did seem to interest Isla, who was actively taking notes. Walter did request she take notes during the different presentations, but it felt like she was really writing them for herself.

The next few hours flew by, only the random snapshots of omniscient writing and historical fiction being remembered. All that Isla was super keen on was heading back to her hotel room for the night, her body _randomly_ craving lamb rack. She sipped on her coffee cup, watching as Harlan walked towards the empty chair next to her. It was technically Walter’s, though Isla realized he had disappeared with an old colleague he had run into at the salad bar. Harlan huffed to himself as he sat down next to Isla, his bright slice of red velvet cake being placed prominently in front of him. Isla couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, placing her Styrofoam cup onto the table.

“Seems a little early for cake, no? I didn’t even know they served it that early.”

“Well when you get to my age you never know if you’ll make it for cake time. Have to take any opportunity when they present themselves.” He returned the smile, assertively pointing with the prong end of his fork before placing it into the fluffy dessert.

“Well said.” She replied, her back hunching forward slightly onto their shared table. Silence between them grew, the distinct chatter of the other conference attendees being prominent, her eyes watching as he slowly savoured his slice of cake.

“How’s Steven doing?” He inquired after taking another bite, his attention turning towards Isla while wiping the red crumbs for his mouth.

“Dr. Beckham is good. Though I’ll admit the internship had left me only communicating with him by email.” She reached forward, taking another sip from her cup.

“Right of course. It hasn’t impacted your studies, I hope?” He inquired, leaning back comfortably into his seat.

“No not at all. Thankfully all my coursework is done. Just focusing now on my thesis.” His attention turned back to his slice, his plate practically empty at that point. He took in two more quick bites before resuming the conversation.

“Right, I remember talking to Steven about it the last time we chatted. Remind me what it’s about again? I know it had something to do with psychology.” He added, his voice raising slightly.

“Yeah exactly,” Isla smiled while leaning forward slightly, the rowdiness of the crowd becoming more apparent. “I’m looking at the progression of psychological ideologies in mystery novels over the past century. Basically showing the shift between merely calling someone crazy versus having a mental illness, and trying to show why that shift happened.”

He smiled genuinely, taking one more bite from his plate before deciding he had enough. “Seems like it’ll be an interesting read. Be sure to send me a copy when it’s submitted.”

“Thanks, will do.” She matched his smile before taking another sip of her now cold coffee. Silence returned between the pair again, Harlan’s eyes beginning to shift towards the crowd of people gathering at the pasty table. He considered getting himself another baked good, debating if it was too much sugar for today. His doctor did keep mentioning he should limit his sugar intake.

“Walter seemed to have taken a liking to you. He’s never had another intern assist him with conferences.” Harlan interrupted, Isla’s attention turning back to face the old man rather than the open window she had peered off to.

“I mean I’m just a regular worker. I get his stuff in on time and make things a little easier for him. That’s all.” Isla answered with a shrug, not entirely sure what he was implying.

He elaborated. “We both know that’s not it, you’re smarter than that. He’s more comfortable around you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

“You haven’t been there since the start. Should have seen how much of a wreck he was when I first gave him the company.” Isla’s eyebrows furrowed, wondering why Harlan was unexpectedly opening up to her.

“Bet it’s like that with anyone being the head of a company for the first time.”

“Come on you know very well how he gets. You’re probably more privy to our family dynamic then you’d like to admit.” Isla cocked her head to the side, eyebrows raising slightly. He wasn’t wrong.

“Anyways, just an observation. I also thought Ransom would be a good crime researcher and look where that got me.” He sighed, shaking his head to the side. “Goddamn idiot.” 

_Say it louder for the cheap seats in the back._

* * *

Day two of the conference was as eventful as the first one. Thankfully, Harlan being preoccupied at his panel of choice meant she could leave the conference earlier. Overall the trip had been something she enjoyed, some of the panels and presentations being of worthy attendance. She also enjoyed the limited interactions with both Walter and Harlan, enjoying their company when present. Though, the thing she was mostly looking forward to was finally getting back to her apartment.

The familiar screech of the metro arriving sent her head throbbing. It had been a long night. It was currently 11:03pm, her flight had been delayed three hours due to bad weather and she was starving. The physical pain from her headache was apparent, though the anticipation of getting back home was exhilarating. She couldn’t wait to finally get back and relax. Once the doors opened, she carried her suitcase into the metro cart and took a seat near the back. She leaned against the wall, letting out a deep yawn as the familiar swaying of the metro began to settle. She could theoretically pass out any second now, knowing that the subtle movement of the metro could ease her into slumber. She decided instead to keep her eyes open, forcing herself to stay up enough to get home safety.

As a safekeeping, she decided to look into her purse to find her keys. After jittering her belongings around, with no recognizable sound of the metal keys clinging along one another, her instantly gasped out to herself. _Fuck, they must still be in the office._ She rolled her eyes, realizing she still had her office badge but didn’t think to bring her house keys. Throwing her head back onto her seat, she mentally cursed herself for being stupid enough to forget something as important. Although the situation could have been worse, she could have needed to switch metro lines. Thankfully the office was a couple stops after hers.

“Fucking idiot,” She cursed herself audibly, pulling onto her suitcase as she walked through the financial district. It was as quiet as you’d expect it to be on a Sunday night, only seeing the brightly lit company logos decorated along the Boston skyline. All she wanted to do was go back home. In that moment she decided she would Uber home instead of taking the metro again. She walked into the office building, her quickly making it to the 17th floor. She got into the office space with no problems, now being aware that she could get in the building outside of office hours. She was determined to find her keys as quickly as possible, her attention focusing quickly onto her desk. She found them immediately, them lying openly on her desk, in plain sight. _Thank God no one took them._ She grinned to herself as she grasped them firmly into her hand, the surge of relaxation returning to her body. That was when she decided to look around her surroundings, more attentively now that her task was complete.

Something was off. She wasn’t used to the dimly lit ambiance of the office space, light rays normally radiating from the large windows, illuminating the entire building floor. But something wasn’t right. From the periphery of her eye, she noticed a faint light coming from Harlan’s office. It was barely noticeable, it peeking through the shut blinds of his glass walls. Instantly Isla’s stomach dropped, realizing she wasn’t alone. She didn’t know what to do, her beginning to fear for the worse. _She really regretted not remembering her keys._ She didn’t want to call 911, especially since she had no idea who it could be. She knew it couldn’t be Harlan, she had just seen him in Baltimore hours prior. What if it was a robber? What if they could hear her? What if they were armed?

She clutched onto her cellphone, opening the dial pad as she approached the main exit. She unfortunately would have to pass by the office in question before running free. She placed her house key in between her index and middle finger, clenching the small muscles in anticipation of self-defense. She hoped this was enough in the event she got caught sneaking out. Her brown eyes were locked on the office, trying to see through the blinds. She wanted to be able to provide any information on the robber, just in case they do ask her after she calls the police. Her eyes squinted slightly, trying to recognize any helpful features between the white blind panels.

She could barely make out the general outline of the stranger. He was tall, his dark hair moving as he hunched over, his hands frantically going through the different stacks of paper laid out on Harlan’s desk. She felt her heart begin to race, her hands shaking in fear from the surge of adrenaline. Her eyes were so fixated on the stranger, her body no longer realizing she had stopped in her tracks. That was reckless, retrospectively. But she recognized something. That stupid looking Gucci scarf, the one with the hideous logo pattern lining the colourful fabric. Isla instantly rolled her eyes in frustration. 

_Are you fucking serious?_

Instantaneously her fear was appeased, feeling the tensed hand muscles begin to relax on her key, her other hand locking her phone and slipping it back into her coat pocket. She went from flight to fight mode. Maybe the lack of sleep was getting to her, maybe it was the frustration with her flight being delayed. Or maybe it was because she thought she was going to get _fucking_ murdered. She was more than mad, she was fuming. Without thinking she assertively walked towards Harlan’s office, ensuring to slam the door open to make her presence known to him. _What a fucking prick!_

“What the fuck Ransom?”

Caught like a deer in the headlights, Ransom’s fingertips fumbled as he dropped the pages he had in his hand. He was surprised more than anything, frightened even that he got caught. He noticed her tone was more stern than anything he’d encounter before. Surely, he had annoyed her countlessly over the past three months. She had called him out on his behaviour before, nostrils dilating as she raised her voice at him. But this wasn’t the same. She was forceful, her body language overshadowing his determination. It was as if she was ready to physically fight him. This was a combative side of her he wasn’t used to. At that point, he couldn’t fake what he was doing. He hadn’t really planned for this to happen. He stammered his words slightly, straightening out his back to make him seem less culpable then he was. “I thought you were in Baltimore.”

She wasn’t having it, not even acknowledging his response. _What the fuck is he doing?_ Her heels practically stomped as she walked into Harlan’s office, her eyes shifting to the papers Ransom had dropped in response to her dramatic entrance. She reached forward, too quickly for Ransom to react accordingly. Her hand snapped back towards her chest, her fingertips tight against the sheets of paper, pulling them away from Ransom. He groaned out to her, his hand stretching forward to grab a hold of them. She retaliated by taking a couple steps back, her eyes furiously scanning over the words on the page. “What is this?”

“It’s none of your business,” He said, gaining a little more of his assertiveness back. He matched her step, leaning forward in order the get the papers from her hand. She took another step back, her backside closing in on the office wall. She began noticing some of the familiar prose written on the pages, realizing they were in earlier drafts that she had seen within the past few weeks. She wasn’t supposed to read Harlan’s new chapters, mostly to limit the number of people who knew. That way it would limit the number of possible leaks. But it piqued her curiosity, especially when they were placed on her desk waiting for Walter to pick them up. So she read them. Quickly. They were incredible, she’d recognize that writing style anywhere. They were Harlan’s, no doubt about it.

“This is Harlan’s new chapter. Why are you snooping around in Harlan’s office trying to take these?”

“It’s not that simple, Hemingway.” He spat back, his towering frame reaching forward, attempting to grab the papers from her hands once more. He was able to make physical contact at that point, but Isla managed to swat his hand away.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She threw back at him, unable to hold back an exasperated chuckle. “Wow, after _everything_ that man has done for you. What are you gonna do, leak this shit to the press?”

“Probably, yeah. Haven’t decided yet. Just give it back.” He added, closing the barely noticeable gap between them, Isla matching the movement by stepping back directly into the office wall. She now realized she was trapped, not being able to take another step back if he wanted to get closer. She was in a bad position, but she frankly didn’t care anymore. Her frustration and hatred of him was at a boiling point. She wanted to explode, tell him how she really felt. He was more than just selfish; this was a new low. Talk about biting the hand that feeds him. 

“You’re absolutely insufferable! You really have no moral compass, do you? What, you couldn’t buy that with grandaddy’s money?”

“Funny. You thought of that one on your way back from Baltimore?” He retorted, eyes rolling at the comeback. Isla was seeing red, her auditory senses inhibited by the pure loathing she felt spilling over. 

“At least the rest of your family tries to fake some sense of compassion. Walt or even your mother tries to make it seem like they’re helping Harlan out, when in reality it’s all for themselves. But you? You don’t give a shit, don’t you?”

“Alright Freud, this isn’t the time to go psychoanalytical on me.”

“God!” She yelled out, unable to comprehend this back and forth. “You need more than just psychotherapy. You literally have _nothing_ without Harlan. The fact you’re whiling to jeopardize his book, this company, _your family’s money,_ for your stupid ego shows you have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Isla you don’t know the whole story. Fuck off and stay in your place.” He stammered, his voice dropping to ensure his authority was noticeable. She spotted his palm reached upwards, forcibly grabbing onto her left wrist, the hand that was tightly holding the papers in question. As his free hand went to grab the papers, her right arm swung upwards so her palm could firmly smack against his cheek. Ransom’s hand instead reverted back towards his now stinging cheek, causing him to take a step back from the force.

_Woah._

That caught the both of them off guard. He loosened his grip around her wrist until he dropped his hand to the side.

“Don’t fucking touch me Ransom.”

His expression went cold, his breath deepening as seconds passed. It matched Isla’s breathing pattern, who was desperately trying to regulate it at that point. The initial pain sensation on his skin was beginning to subside, instead replaced with the general sensation of uneasiness. His blue eyes, now dark, stared into hers. Silence grew between them, Isla’s adrenaline pulsating through her veins. She could feel her heart beat out of her chest, her breathing unable to subside. A concoction of emotions was coursing through her body, leaving her unable to think logically.

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, finally breaking the silence.

She didn’t know what was going on. It was like the slap was the emotional climax she was looking for. She wasn’t sure if it was the physical connection with his body, one that was so forceful, that changed the mood of the encounter. Or if it was his apology, something she’d never heard from him before. He was being genuine, she could tell. He didn’t say things he didn’t want to actually say. He pushed a boundary with her, and so did she by slapping him. It was like a switch, absolutely chaotic in nature. The anger was instantly gone, but the physical arousal of her body was still prominent. Her heart was still speeding. Her palms were beginning to sweat. Goosebumps were radiating along her skin. She was practically possessed by emotions, inhibiting any executive functions from her brain. She wanted him for some reason. _Right now_. She didn’t understand what was happening to her body. But she knew she _wanted_ him.

“Goddamn it Ransom…” She grumbled, mostly to herself, her body primally closing the distance between them before her mind could figure out what was going on. Her palm opened, the pages from Harlan’s chapter delicately falling onto the floor. Before she knew it, her lips were firmly pressed against his, her arms reaching upwards to snake around his neck. He was taken aback by the forceful interaction, but not entirely surprised. He felt a similar attraction to her in that moment, riddled with the same confusion. His lips matched her pace, his large palms finding the small of her back while pressing their chests together. “What are you doing, Isla?” He inquired in between kisses, asking the question rhetorically.

“Just shut up Ransom.” She demanded, her right palm cupping his jaw while kissing his lips hungrily. His towering frame was less threatening than earlier. Though, Isla truly felt the height difference when he began passionately kissing her back. His body pushing against her, causing her spine to round back to accommodate. She felt his silk scarf rub against her cheek as they kissed, her hands tightly grabbing onto the fabric on either side, pulling it against his neck in order to press their mouths harder together. “Shut up and fuck me already.” She added, no longer wanting to control any of her impulsive thoughts. This was more erotic than any of her previous fantasies. It felt like she was getting her next fix, nothing else being able to plague her consciousness. She _needed_ him in that moment, and he felt it too. “That’s what you’ve always wanted, yeah?”

He didn’t bother answering. He had reverted to a more primitive role, happy to oblige anything she had requested. He guided the two of them towards Harlan’s desk, his hand reaching forward to push back all of the spread-out papers, binders and general desk junk. Once cleaned, he propped Isla onto the desk, hands firmly grasped onto her thighs while feeling her mouth open against his. Her tongue began roaming freely in his mouth, taking in deep breaths through her nose in order to keep kissing longer. Everything about this was exhilarating, she was practically lightheaded.

Ransom’s hands trailed along her body, impatiently wanting to fuck her in that moment. Everything was happening so quickly, but he was already so hard his cock was painfully throbbing. He couldn’t wait, not even to get fully undressed. He disconnected their lips momentarily to drop his attention downwards. Isla’s legs were covered with a leather skirt and sheer black pantyhose. His stronger fingers reached downwards towards the opening of her groin, his fingertips being able to pierce through the black fabric. With one swift move, he ripped her pantyhose open before returning his attention back up at Isla’s lips. As theirs mouths reconnected, Isla began shimmying her skirt upwards, facilitating access between her legs by spreading them further. Ransom, now with eyes closed, was able to open the zipper from his pants, allowing his cock to bounce freely. He guided his tip towards Isla’s opening, a pulsating sensation running through his body once he felt her wetness soaking through her panties against his skin. She felt the same electricity, feeling the muscles from her legs contract at the tender touch. He hummed softly against her lips, feeling her impatience as her pelvic region began bucking forward slightly, practically begging to be ravished in that moment.

He decided to give in, too frustrated himself to tease her further. Using his index finger, he managed to shove her panties to the side before pushing himself in. The stretching sensation Isla felt was slightly painful, especially when he slipped his entire cock in without any foreplay. However, she was absolutely drenched, feeling some of her own juices slowly trickle down her thigh as she felt him begin to pull out slowly. She pulled away from their kiss, unable to control a soft whine from escaping her mouth. She was unable to keep her eyes open, them starting to roll to the back of her head while he began rhythmically pumping into her again. Her elbows buckled back onto the wooden desk, them making contact with the surface to keep herself propped up.

“God you’re so fucking tight. When’s the last time you got fucked?” He questioned breathlessly, his hips doing the majority of the work while his head dipped forward to kiss her neck softly. She was unable to speak coherent words, instead a symphony of whimpers and groans being audibly heard. She wanted to tell him to shut up. She wanted to tell him it was none of his business. She wanted to tell him he felt _so good_. But it was practically impossible. He was satisfied he was able to keep her speechless, a feeling he could relate to.

She arched her chest forward, feeling Ransom’s warm fingertips trailing along her backside. He pulled her closer to his chest, her right hand reaching up and placing it on the back of his neck. She could feel the sweat starting to build up on his skin, probably because he still had his coat and scarf on. But she didn’t care, she was getting what she wanted, even if it was sweatier than it needed to be.

He was being quiet, but so was she. Moans only escaping his lips every time he felt her muscles clench around him. This was very much something that came from the heat of the moment. _Literally_. There was nothing to be said, so the silence wasn’t misplaced. This was an entirely physical act. She preferred it that way. She still hated him. Arguably, that feeling wasn’t going to go anytime soon. _But wow did he feel amazing_. She could only imagine how much better this would be if this was more methodically planned. 

Ransom began picking up the pace, Isla hearing the clinging of his belt buckle as he forcibly thrusted into her. She gasped out for air, whimpering at the sensation while biting down on her lower lip. She felt his fingers trail along her dress shirt, his hand slipping under the fabric to cup on her breast through her bra. The grip on her skin tightened as Ransom groaned out, feeling Isla’s walls tightening around his cock as she came. The sensation sent him over the edge, lasting only a couple more seconds before reaching his own orgasm.

Both were completely out of breath, Isla feeling a surge of heat washing over her entire body. She was now super aware of all of their layers that were still on, knowing it would be a while before she could cool down again. After pulling himself out of her, Isla leaned forward to slip off her coat, her hand fanning herself as a way to cool back down. Isla watched as Ransom turned around, almost as if he was ashamed of what happened, him zipping himself back up. He turned back around to face her, her other palm firmly back on Harlan’s desk, leaning back as she regained her composure.

Compared to her, he seemed more put together, except for the pooled sweat beams dripping from his temples. His pants, still wrinkle free, hugged nicely against his abdomen, although they seemed a little tighter due to his still prominent erection. His coat and scarf were still on, his shirt now firmly tucked back into his pants. Her, on the other hand, looked like an absolute mess. Her skirt rode all the way up her stomach, her pantyhose noticeably split down the middle. Her blouse was slightly opened, her bra peeking out. She was now hyper aware of the dripping come from her vagina, some of the liquid trailing down onto the wooden desk. She leaned over to the right, grabbing a Kleenex from Harlan’s desk to try to clean herself up.

“Are you on the pill?” He asked breathlessly, now fully realizing he had finished inside of her. Just like Isla, Ransom was completely unable to fathom what had just happened. It felt like it all went down within seconds. It would make sense that they both forgot to use protection.

“Yeah.” She answered, getting up on her feet from the desk, walking over to a nearby trashcan to throw out the soaked tissue paper, her legs feeling wobbly as she did.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked after another prolonged pause, hands now on his hips as he took another deep breath.

“No, I should be fine.”

“Okay.”


	4. November

The previous month’s accident delayed the publication of Harlan’s new book for about another month. In Ransom’s defense, the mishap wasn’t entirely his fault. It was partially Isla’s fault that so _many_ of the pages were destroyed after (what she had now dubbed) “The Incident”. Memories of Isla’s body being pressed up against the oak desk with fingertips balling up sheets of paper into her fist. Some pages were ripped, others were soaked in sweat. None the less, they had to be discarded.

With Harlan being old-school, there were no additional copies of the missing pages. He wrote the entirety of his first drafts on his trusted typewriter, thinking it maintained the authenticity of his work. News of the lost pages were instead seen as an opportunity for Harlan to rewrite his work, instead causing a domino effect with the rest of his book. In totality, “The Incident” had costed Blood Line Wine about $5000, mostly due to advertisement changes.

“I can’t even imagine how much money we could have lost had we already begun printing.” Walter answered through chewing teeth, the steam from his sweet and sour chicken dissipating from his mouth.

“Yeah, we got pretty lucky I guess.” Isla replied before taking a bite from her chopsticks. Her eyes darted downwards in her to-go container, hoping that Walter would drop the topic. She reached her utensils back into her container, grabbing some more chow mein.

Walter leaned back into his seat while wiping the corners of his mouth. He let out a deep chuckle, his head cocking over to the side as he watched Isla take in another mouthful. “You know, this is probably the best thing that could have happened. All this free press about the burglary. The book now being pushed for the holiday season. It’s probably going to be our best release yet.”

He was prideful, thinking he successfully weaved together an elaborate scheme in order to boost sales. Isla had to admit, Walter had been steadily at work to smoothen out the kinks of the delay. He had taken more of a leadership role, staying late negotiating with editors and manufacturers to ensure an effective course of work. Many of those nights where he stayed overtime, Isla was there by his side ensuring he was properly fed and caffeinated. Hence the suggestion of Chinese food tonight. Never would he had known Isla had helped him more than he thought.

“That sounds great,” Isla replied with a genuine smile, placing her chopsticks into her container before reaching forward for her water bottle. “You think it’ll be popular enough to initiate the movie deal?”

He raised his eyebrows while chewing onto his piece of chicken. “Not sure, will have to wait and see.” 

She nodded her head in response, the thought of Walter’s “big pitch” coming to mind. He hadn’t stopped talking about since their return from the Baltimore conference. Walter had rekindled a relationship with his old college friend, Michael, who was now the CEO of a new film production studio. They had a very niche vision focusing entirely on more cleverly scripted thrillers and mysteries. Walter thought it would be a great opportunity to dip their toes into movie production. He knew Harlan would be uneasy about the idea, but he didn’t want to pass up the chance. It was honestly the best thing Walt could have come up with.

“Walt, I think you really hit the nail with this idea.” Isla crossed over her legs, chopsticks now pointed towards Walter. “It’s honestly perfect, but you can’t be apprehensive about it. Lean into it with your chest.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

She nodded her head. “Well yeah, of course. But if you don’t push it, it’s not going to get done on its own.”

“We’ll see how the sales go first, maybe bring it up by spring.”

Isla chuckled while shaking her head. “I’ll make sure you don’t change your mind.”

He laughed quietly, “You know me well.”

“That’s apparently part of the job.” She grinned while chewing, Walter reciprocating the chuckle. He let out another deep sigh before turning to his container.

“Thank God the cleaner was stupid enough to try to steal a chapter.” 

Isla was satisfied that her bad decision seemed to have benefitted the company at large, other than the cleaner of course. Isla initially feared that her exploit would be caught in some way. She knew Harlan was apprehensive about having cameras in his office, so the actual act itself wouldn’t have been caught. But they were in an office building with security, and with cameras on every floor. Surely there must have been some footage of Ransom or Isla walking into the office space the night the chapter was reportedly stolen.

The paranoia was later appeased when a cleaning staff “surprisingly” confessed to the crime, her confession stinking of exploitation. Isla could only assume that the employee was paid off to take the blame, the whole situation reeking of something Ransom would do. Since “The Incident”, Ransom hadn’t been around the office much. She had technically only seen him once in passing. He was noticeably uneasy, furiously roaming through the cupboards of the break room looking for his Snoopy cup.

“In the sink,” Isla pointed out while walking over to her fridge to grab her packed lunch.

He smashed his lips together, reaching into the sink to grab his mug, not bothering to give it a rinse before pouring himself some coffee. He turned his attention towards her, bringing the rim of the mug to his lips to take a small sip. He nodded his head at her, quickly breaking the silence.

“Isla.”

She simply rolled her eyes and walked back towards her desk.

She would often catch herself thinking about him, and replaying the moments leading up to “The Incident”. Every time she would see his biscoff cookies laying around the breakroom, or walk into Harlan’s office, the thoughts of Ransom’s forceful lip against her skin rushed to her. She would often be in a complete state of arousal, even without his physical presence around the office. She began to miss their back and forth bickering, beginning to think he had stopped coming around since he had lost interest. Now that he got what he wanted from her, why bother?

Though Ransom wasn’t giving Isla attention, his other family members weren’t as cold. Her increased commitment around the office were noticeable. Walter always anticipated seeing Isla at her desk by the time he arrived in the morning, and knew she would be there when he walked out. Harlan was also thoroughly impressed with the newfound dedication. Although she was working more hours primarily out of guilt, she began enjoying being in his company. She would often have lunch with Harlan, slipping him an extra slice of cake from time to time (against the request of his physician). Harlan was growing fond of her presence, enough to insist she attend his birthday party at the end of the week.

“That’s so kind, but isn’t it a family thing?” She asked while placing a slice of carrot cake onto his desk. “This is my friend Noelle’s recipe. It’s actually vegan.”

He grimaced lightheartedly with a chuckle. “God, get that away from me.” He added, pushing at the plate towards Isla. “Usually yes, but you’ve been more present than most of my family members. I’d love if you’d be able to come.”

“Oh don’t be such an old fart. It’s filled with sugar and oil. Just try it before pushing it away.” Isla insisted, playing the same game by pushing the plate back towards him.

He furrowed his eyebrows at the plate, his fork pressing against the fluffy cake. “Oh alright, but only if you attend my party.” She laughed at the ridiculous wager.

“Sure, if you eat your cake I’ll come to your party.”

* * *

Isla thanked her Uber driver while shutting the door behind her. Her eyes squinted as she tried to make sense of the dark traditional mansion that stood in front of her. The shorted days hadn’t made it easier on her. She let out a huffed exhale, her breath visible while walking towards the front entrance. The scene was something she’d imagine reading from some of Harlan’s novels. The seclusion of the location, the mismatched amber and red bricks lining the walls of the home, the wooden creaks coming from the front porch. Isla always wondered why Harlan’s imagery was so detailed in his work, now partially understanding the source of his literary scenes.

This was reaffirmed once she actually stepped in. The entire home was decorated in different hues of brown with pops of warm toned colours throughout. Although charming and old, it did leave Isla slightly on edge. The ambiance was dim, creepy, but surprisingly cozy. Partially due to the amount clutter surrounding the home. However, there was a certain anticipation that brewed within Isla, as if something explosive was bound to happen. Maybe that’s why every family member was so worked up.

Isla was greeted by a genuine smile, watching the stranger’s eyes crinkle as she spoke. “Hi, you must be Isla. May I take your coat?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks.” She replied, Isla arching her back slightly to slip off her wool coat. She handed it to the stranger, placing the strap of her crossbody over her shoulder. “I never got your name?”

“It’s Fran.” She replied sweetly, placing the coat over her forearm while speaking. “The rest of the guests are in the living room. There’s also wine in the kitchen, you can go help yourself while they’re finishing up dinner.”

“Thank you. It was nice meeting you Fran.” Isla gave her a nod before stepping deeper into the main hallway.

She suddenly felt anxious. This would be the first time she’d see the extended family, including the children, outside of the office. Knowing how volatile the more well-known family members could get, it was uneasy thinking about how they’d all behave within a more casual setting. Isla felt her palm begin to sweat, her trying to wipe off the excess onto her jeans before walking past the threshold of the living room.

A crowd of members had already formed by the fireplace, most of them engaged in their own conversation. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a younger boy sprawled out onto the sofa, eyes glued on an iPad placed onto his lap. She assumed this was Jacob, although she couldn’t get a good look at his facial features. He did generally resemble the boy from the family portrait displayed on Walter’s desk, signalling to her that the assumption would be fair. As if in anticipation she took in a breath, her hands adjusting the hem of her auburn sweater before realizing her name was being called out.

“Isla, you made it!” Walter exclaimed, him handing over his glass of wine to a petite woman before walking over to Isla. She returned the smile as he went in for a side hug, her giving his back a small pat as they embraced.

“Yeah of course.”

“Here, come meet everyone.” He added, opening up his chest as he guided the both of them towards the fireplace. “You already know Richard, right?”

Isla nodded, turning her attention towards him. “Yeah, I’ve seen him a couple times in the office. Nice to see you again.” She reached forward to grab his hand, Richard retaliating with an assertive shake.

“Likewise.”

“And this is my wife Donna.” Walter continued, tilting his head to the side as he smiled towards her. She gave him a small chuckle before speaking.

“I’d shake your hand too but I’m holding Walt’s glass.”

“No worries, nice to meet you Donna.” Isla nodded, returning the polite smile.

“This little one over there who won’t take his attention from the screen is Jacob.” Donna said with a coy tone, calling towards the teenager on the couch. “Honey, come say hello to Isla.”

No reply came from the boy, instead of the sound of his game filling the silence.

“Jacob, please.” Donna pleated softly, Walter instead letting out a sigh.

“No, it’s fine. Wouldn’t want to interrupt his game.” Isla said instead as a method to diffuse the looming tension.

“No it’s not fine,” Walter mumbled, reaching forward to grab his glass back from Donna. “But you know how teenagers get.”

“Yeah, hasn’t been too long since you’ve been one I bet.” Richard chimed in, taking a sip from his glass.

Isla nervously laughed, her hands slipping to the back pocket of her jeans. “That reminds me, I should probably get myself a drink.”

“Oh you don’t need to do that, just ask Fran to get you one.” Donna spoke, her eyes already shifting towards the threshold of the room to locate the help.

“It’s fine, I’ll just get it myself. I want to see the options anyways.” Isla added while turning onto her heels, walking back towards the main hallway. She sighed under the breath, eyes widening slightly as she began to locate the kitchen. She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath.

This was going to be a long night.

Thankfully Isla was able to find the kitchen on the other side of the hall. She unconsciously looked over her shoulder to ensure she was alone. Barely five minutes since stepping inside and she was already dreading going back. The grand kitchen was surprisingly empty, only the sound of the kitchen timer being heard. Her eyes glanced over to the island, observing the assortment of opened wine bottles displayed. She wasn’t much of a wine fanatic, often opting for the cheapest bottle she could fine at her local grocery store, so she wouldn’t be able to make a thoughtful decision. She instead went for the nearly empty bottle, assuming that it’s been consumed the most because it was the better option.

While pouring herself a glass, she began hearing the pattering of steps walking in from the front door. As the aromas of the _way too expensive_ wine filed her nasal cavity, she could hear the distant greetings from a woman to Fran. The voice relished in being in Fran’s presence, going on about how she always enjoyed the “beautiful aura” she emitted. That made Isla roll her eyes while sipping her wine. Even though she had only seen Joni once, her attendance could surely not be missed.

Isla opted to stay in the kitchen by herself for a few more moments, wanting to sit and enjoy her wine in peace. Even for a while. She sat down on one of the bar stools that faced the island, her elbow firmly placed onto the granite surface while taking another gulp. She began imagining having her glass in a nice warm bath, the sounds of some random reality TV show playing on in the background. She reached forward to grab onto the practically empty bottle, her eyes quickly glazing over the label. She mentally took an image of the brand in question, wondering if she would be able to afford it herself. Probably not.

Her fantasy was broken as Isla heard the creaking steps hurrying into the kitchen space. Round sunglasses hung from his beige sweater with his Gucci scarf prominently wrapped around his neck. Isla’s fingers tensed up around the bottle before deciding to place it back onto the counter. She almost forgot running into Ransom would be a real possibility tonight.

“Have you seen Fran?” He asked. Isla shook her head.

Ransom groaned out slightly, stepping back into the main hallway before locking eyes with Fran, shiftily placing his sunglasses into his coat pocket

“There you are, here.” He assertively demanded while slipping off his suede coat and unwinding the scarf from his neck. He placed the articles of clothing into her hands, not even bothering to see if she was preoccupied with anything else. Instead assumed she was there only to service him.

“Thanks, Hugh.” Fran replied while passively grabbing his articles, quickly disappearing into the hallway en route for the main entrance.

_God, I forgot he still made people call him Hugh._

Isla watched the interaction from her seat, shifting her attention back to the assortment of wine bottles in front of her as Ransom walked back into the kitchen space. Ransom rolled up the sleeves of his sweater up his forearm, fumbling around his Apple Watch until it rested comfortably on his wrist. He gave Isla a quick smirk, his head cocking over to the side slightly as he walked towards the island.

“Hemingway.” He walked directly passed her, instead focusing on the varieties of bottles. “Never thought you’d actually show up.”

He was acting like nothing had happened for some reason, still maintained his flirtatious tone with her. His demeanor matched the same one prior to “The Incident”. Isla assumed it was probably safe to re-establish their previous back and forth. Just because they had an immensely passionate sexual encounter in his grandfather’s office doesn’t mean things have to change.

“Well, that makes two of us. Harlan invited me.”

“I know,” He answered, his eyes glancing back to his wrist as if to double check if his watch was still aligned properly. He reached forward to grab one of the bottles, his eyes quickly reading over the label. “He hasn’t shut up about inviting you for the past couple of days.”

“How so?” She asked, right eyebrow raised slightly while taking another sip.

He let out a dry cough, placing the bottle back down. He reached forward for a Bordeaux instead, the bottle already corked and ready to be enjoyed. “Does it really matter what he says?” He added, taking a step closer to Isla as he grabbed an empty wine glass. 

Isla couldn’t help but chuckle. _How transparent, Ransom_. “Your tone seems jealous.”

“Alright there,” He retorted, his attention fixated on the rich liquid being poured into his glass. “If my memory serves me right, it was you who was begging me to fuck you.”

_Well, there it is._

“God, Ransom. You gotta bring that up now, out of all places?”

He grinned at her, swirling his wine before taking a quick sip. His nose scrunched up in disapproval, placing the glass down on the counter. _What a waste of wine._

“Relax Isla, I’m just pulling your leg.” He added, eyes scanning around the room before tapping his hand against his chest. “I’m gonna go get the good shit from upstairs. You want a glass?”

“No, I’m fine with this.”

He smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Suit yourself.” He added before heading back into the hallway. Isla debated whether or not to leave Ransom’s used glass out in the open like that. She only assumed this wasn’t the first time Ransom left things around for others to clean up after him. Maybe it was routine. She decided instead to top off her own glass with what was left of the wine bottle before heading back into the living room.

The following instants went by momentarily, Isla aimlessly following along with the various chit chats, learning little to nothing of value from their input. The arrogance and self-assuredness of the Thrombey/Drysdale clan was apparent in their dialogue, which seemingly made Ransom look more like an angel if anything. There was a lack of insight, from all parties really. All talking about their bought successes while trying to lead intellectually stimulating conversations. In reality, there was nothing of substance. Richard going off about a new business venture, mooching off the borrowed success of his wife. Joni mentioned how she wanted to start her own lifestyle company à la Goop.

Thankfully, before she knew it, Isla was being seated down at the grand dinner table. Since she trailed off at the end of the pack, she was left with being seated at the end of the table by Meg, Joni’s daughter, whom Isla met a few minutes prior. Isla took another sip from her glass before placing it on the table. Her eyes locked directly across from the table, seeing Ransom shift forward onto his chair. He gave her a quick wink once catching her glancing towards his direction, causing Isla to shift her attention.

“Thank you all for coming today.” Harlan kindly stated once dinner was officially served, his fork filled with cut steak and mashed potatoes being pushed into his mouth. “To celebrate my birthday.”

“Of course dad, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Linda replied, her hand locked on top of Richard’s while her attention focused on her father. Walter snarked.

“Is there something you wanted to say?”

“Nope, I feel the same sentiment.” Walter replied, his eyes fixed onto his plate as he took his first bite. 

“Oh, bullshit Walter. You couldn’t even wait until after dinner before you start attacking me again?” Linda defensively sighed out. Isla turned her attention away, her eyes shifting down to her plate, knowing this was the chaos she was anticipating. She noticed Ransom from the corner of her eye. The tip of his thumb was between his teeth, his plate not even touched yet. He was looking directly her, as if oblivious to the brewing conflict.

“That’s rich, coming from you. You’re the one who’s always combative.” Isla couldn’t help but look up, her eyes locking with Ransom’s.

“I’m only combative because you never see the fault in your ways.”

“Walter, please stop.” Donna asked while placing her hand on his chest. Walter dismissed her request, swatting away the touch just as quickly.

“You don’t even give me the opportunity to do anything. How am I being faulty if you don’t allow me to run my own company?” Ransom began smirking at Isla, his hand dropping down onto the table.

Harlan interrupted. “Children, please. Let’s talk about this some other time.” Isla felt Ransom’s calf lean forward and press against her crossed legs.

“Great idea dad.” Linda remarked, her hand removed from Richard’s as she held onto her fork and knife.

“God, you two always do this. You never take anything I have to say seriously.” Isla took a frantic bite from her potatoes, hardly paying attention to the bickering, instead feeling Ransom’s leg snake between hers to guide them apart.

“That’s hardly true Walter, you just want a reason to paint me as the bad guy.” Isla wilfully accepted the request, her legs uncrossing from under the table.

“Linda, you are the bad guy! What do you even do at Blood Like Wine? Don’t you have a real estate company to take care of?” Ransom pulled his chair closer to the table, his abdomen now firmly pressed against the surface.

“You’re one to talk, dad gave you this company. I built mine from the ground up. You wouldn’t even know the first thing about running a real business!” Ransom placed his foot against the back of her left calf, guiding her leg upwards.

“How about you let me fucking try!” Walter exacerbated, Donna again pleating with him to calm down.

“Come on Walt,” Harlan said, getting up from his seat in order to walk towards Walter’s chair. “Let’s go take a walk so you can calm down.” Isla followed Ransom’s request, her leg raising upwards until her foot landed on his thigh. Ransom smirked to himself, reaching over to take another sip from his whiskey with his left hand.

“I don’t need to calm down, Dad. I just need you to listen to me. I have great ideas for the company, Isla thinks they’re great too.” The current trance Isla was entangled in was broken, the sound of her name causing her attention to shift. Ransom, on the other hand, was more focused than ever, his right hand reaching to get a hold of her ankle.

Harlan seemed more interested in what Walter had to say now. “Really, is that true?” Isla felt like she was practically being dragged by Ransom, him guiding her foot towards his bulging groin. 

Isla swallowed deeply before answering. “Uh yeah. He’s been in the works of possibly selling the rights for a movie deal. Sounds really promising so far.”

Linda groaned, her prodding her cutlery around as she moved her hands. “And since when do we listen to ideas from the interns?” Ransom placed his whiskey back on the table, his attention shifting back on Isla while working her foot against him.

“Since when do we listen to ideas from people that don’t even work for the company?” Walter defended, a bit too forcibly. Ransom’s lips parted slightly, taking in a deep breath. Isla slouched downwards slightly, not enough for anyone to notice she was preoccupied with something else, her foot matching the pace of his guiding hand autonomously. The energy was as chaotic as the one from “The Incident”.

Harlan turned to Linda, “Come on Linda, leave Isla out of it.”

Linda placed her cutlery back on the table before her glare on Isla was more than apparent. She was trying to understand this newfound favouritism. The stare caused Isla to turn her attention towards Linda, the movement of her foot slowing down. Ransom’s grip around her foot tightened in retaliation. Isla could feel her skin pulsating at the touch, paired with Linda’s prominent stare.

“Are you sleeping with Walter?”

Silence settled soon after, following by a forced choke by Donna. Both Walter and Harlan turned their attention to Linda in dismay, while the rest of the family turned to Isla. All except for Ransom. Instead, he was unable to hold back a loud laugh, his hand disconnected from her foot while clutching onto his chest.

“God no, what the hell Linda?” Isla said immediately after Ransom broke the silence.

“Are you insane?” Walter added, standing up from his chair.

“What, am I crazy? Why is she even here, is she some sort of sexual exploit you wanted around?” She asked further, the younger children visibly confused by the shift in tone by the adults. Ransom couldn’t hold in his laughter, a palm reaching upwards to cover his mouth.

“Oh my God, this is crazy!” Ransom exclaimed, getting up from his chair without excusing himself. Isla was in complete shock, unable to say anything. Even unable to readjust her posture now that Ransom wasn’t there to keep her steady.

“Linda, that was too far.” Harlan asserted, his head shaking from side to side.

“You always try to make things inappropriate for your own gain. Typical.” Walter said, hand pointing towards his older sister.

“I don’t think it’s so crazy for me to ask. You’ve never had an intern come with you on your business trips. We’ve never had an intern come to your birthday party, Dad. Is it wrong for me to ask questions?” Linda asked, putting her hands up defensively.

Harlan exacerbated, his hand reaching upwards to rub his forehead while Walter spoke over Linda. Soon after the two elevated their bickering tone, one trying to overpower the other’s voice. All of the attention from the other guests had turned towards the yelling siblings.

Isla took that opportunity to try to remove herself from the chaos, knowing she desperately wanted to leave, even if momentarily. She decided this would be the time to leave once Linda stood from her seat as well, knowing it would probably be a while until they returned their attention back to Isla. She slowly slipped out of her seat and walked towards the side entrance directly into the kitchen. She let out a muffled chuckle from her lips, unable to even fathom the accusation put on her. That paired with the thought of what she was doing to Ransom, which was something completely unorthodox of her to do, made the accusation even more absurd. The Thrombeys made her crazy, and every moment spent with them she began to rationalize why they acted so shitty to one another.

Isla checked her phone for the time, hoping it could be late enough in the evening to slip away for good. Instead, she found an email notification sent two minutes ago. To her work email. She squinted her eyes as she opened it, no subject title attached to the email.

_“I’m by the front door. Come find me.”_

She figured it wouldn’t hurt to see him right now, compared to the madness currently happening in the dining room. She tucked her cell into her back pocket, retracing her step back towards the main hallway. It was dark at that point, the porch lights now being turned off. She was still able make out the outline of Ransom’s body pressed against the main door.

“Really, my work email?”

“Well you never gave me your number. All I had was your work email.” He responded, Isla being able to see the shrugging of his shoulders as he spoke. She hummed in agreement, the explanation making complete sense. Isla stood there for a couple seconds, arms crossed over her chest. The moonlight peered through the front door, illuminating Isla’s facial expressions as she processed the accusations. She bit down on her bottom lip, causing Ransom to let out a deep laugh. He couldn’t help it.

She glanced over at him, the lightness of her brown eyes being more apparent in the soft lighting. “It’s not funny, you know.”

“It’s hilarious, actually.” Ransom replied quickly, and Isla couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Okay yeah, it’s funny ironic. But I’m not trying to have people think I’m sleeping around with my boss.”

He snorted. “Fuck ‘em. They don’t know what they’re talking about.” Isla raised her eyebrows in agreement, Ransom did have a point.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Silence returned, but their gazes were still locked on one another. Ransom took that silence as an invitation, beginning to lean in to close the gap between them. She recoiled back slightly before he managed to press his lips onto hers. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He asked, his hands reaching up to cup her cheeks. 

“Right here?”

“Quit the innocent act Isla, you were practically giving me a footjob back there.” _Fair_. He leaned in again, this time Isla allowing him to kiss her. She gave him a few pecks before pulling away slightly again.

“Couldn’t someone walk in on us?” 

“God no, they just got started. There’s at least another 30 minutes left before anyone leaves the room.” He leaned back in, his lips nipping at her neck instead. “Plus, the help know to keep their mouths shut.” Her eyes rolled at the overt classism, before fluttering closed at the tender touch.

“That kind of sounds like a terrible time.” She mumbled, her arms locking around his neck as she felt the sensation of his warm tongue along her skin.

“There are worse things.” He whispered against her skin before pulling away, his thumb reaching upwards to pull against her bottom lip. “Now, are you going to let me kiss that pretty mouth of yours?” 

She pursed her lips together, letting out a muffled chuckle. He took that as a yes, swiping his thumb along her lip before replacing it with his own. He hummed against her mouth as he felt hers move with his. While keeping his left hand cupped onto her cheek, his other began trailing down her spine in order to press their chests together. Her fingertips moved upwards towards the nape of his neck, pulling against the small strands of hair.

Moments passed before their kiss began to get sloppy, tongues swirling in tandem with one another, both gasping for air through their nostrils. Ransom guided her hand down towards his erection that she had previously caused. She happily began pressing her palm against his jeans as requested. The anticipation was getting to the best of Ransom, his left hand sliding down onto her neck and applying pressure along his fingertips. The sensation caused Isla to take in a deep inhale, her tongue continuing to battle against Ransom’s. Although the primal urge wasn’t as forceful the second time around, she was still very much entranced with Ransom’s touch. She pulled away slightly from their kiss, her hand beginning to unbuckle his Hermes belt.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” She inquired, causing him to grin widely.

“Of course, Hemingway.” He picked her up once his belt was undone, her legs wrapped firmly around his waist. He placed a secure grip on Isla’s thighs, him guiding the two of them towards the first room with a door; a coat closet. It was larger than most and should probably be fine. For now. He practically slammed the door shut with his foot and pinned Isla against the wall. She held back her grin, biting down on her bottom lip while glancing down at Ransom.

Legs still tight against Ransom, he let go of her thighs. He reached towards the hem of her sweater, pulling the fabric over her head to reveal a grey bralette. It was obvious to him that Isla hadn’t anticipated being in this situation with Ransom again, noticing the blandness of the undergarment. He instead was satisfied that their minimal interactions were persuasive enough for her to be back in this predicament. Since “The Incident”, Ransom’s thoughts raced imagining the curves of Isla’s body. Even after having ravished her, the impulsivity of the event still left a lot to the imagination. This time he could take his time and really study the details of her body.

His fingers pushed back against her straps after delicately unclasping the bralette, allowing her breasts to bounce freely. His thumb played slowly with the erect numb before placing it into his mouth and suckling onto the tender skin. The touch caused Isla’s skin to get progressively hotter, her instinct to get undress being more profound than ever. Isla bit against her bottom lip, eyes fluttered to the back of her head as he switched his attention to her other breast.

Her eyes opened partially once she felt him disconnect with her skin, his large palms reaching back to her thighs. He tapped against her skin, letting her know to unclench her legs from around his waist so he could put her back down. She followed his lead, her legs uncrossing until she stood back up on her feet, her lips reconnecting once more with Ransom’s.

“Get on your knees, baby girl.” He whispered assertively, fingertips placed on her chin while kissing her tenderly. “I wanna know if that pretty mouth feels as good as it tastes.”

She bit down on her lip, following his command and dropping down onto her knees. He helped her take off his pants, her now beginning to tug off his boxer briefs.

“Take off your sweater.” She asked coquettishly, her eyes fixated upwards at the fabric covering the entirety of his torso. She watched as he undressed himself, her lips placing soft kisses along his erect cock.

“Open your mouth babe.” He said, her tongue pulling outwards as she opened her mouth for him. He grinned down at her as he placed herself in her mouth, feeling her lips curl around his tip. Ransom groaned out quietly, her throat slowly opening up as she began to take more of him in her mouth. Using her hand to guide the motion, she slowly bobbed her head along his length. She could feel her spit beginning to build up at the back of her throat, her deciding to spit it out onto him and working the lubricant with her hand.

He pushed against her hand, placing himself back into her mouth. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He whispered, his hand reaching to the back of her head to guide himself in further. She gagged slightly at the sensation, feeling him hit the back of her throat, but gladly accepted him. Her eyes locked up with his, her hand reaching down to play with his balls while he fucked her mouth.

“You love sucking my cock, don’t you?” He grinned down at her. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” She groaned out while pulling away for air, her hand maintaining the pace before putting him back in her mouth. He allowed her to keep sucking him off, feeling her gag a couple more times along his length before pulling her off by her hair.

“Good girl,” He mumbled, leaning downwards to connect their lips together, Isla feeling the mixture of spit and precome beginning to drip down her chin. “Take off your jeans and get back up.”

She followed the request, slipped her jeans quickly down her legs as she got back onto her feet. She kicked them off to the side, awaiting for Ransom’s next command.

“Turn around,” He said, her following suit until he pressed his chest along her backside. She hummed at the contact, feeling Ransom’s fingers trailing down her body before reaching the hem of her underwear. His fingers slipped under the band while his lips nibbled against her earlobe. His index finger reached her core, the sensation pulsating through Isla’s body as he rubbed against her drenched clit.

“You’re so wet for me, baby girl.” He whispered against her ear, the vibrations sending Isla’s body into a frenzy. She tensed up against Ransom’s hand, leaning back into his chest.

“Please…Ransom.”

“Huh?” He grinned against her jawline, watching as she began tilting her head back towards him.

“God Ransom, fuck me please.” She begged, lips now connecting with his. He maintained the circular motion of his fingertip, lips offering hers a few soft pecks.

She bucked her hips against his hand, her ass firmly placed against his erection. Ransom was fighting the temptation, knowing he was equally as desperate to fuck her in that moment. But he wanted to keep teasing her and maintain the power dynamic.

“Beg for it, baby girl.”

“Ransom,” She groaned out, her hand reaching down to push against her underwear. “Please, I need your cock.”

“Yeah?” He teased, aiding her with his other hand to pull down the fabric. “You want me to fuck you with my big cock?”

“Please, Ransom.” She moaned louder, him deciding to finally give in. He pushed her forward slightly, her forearms pressed against the closet door while he began pushing into her. His hands grabbed onto her waist, feeling her rhythmically move her hips backwards in sync with his movement. She let out another loud moan, her back arching back while her eyes closed.

“Not so loud baby.” Ransom instructed, his wrists firmly on her hips as he began picking up the pace. He guided her legs further apart, giving himself the ability to push in further.

It was moments like these where Isla’s mind was racing hysterically, unable to control the active memories flooding back of what lead to this exact situation. Never in a million years would she had expected to be in the vicinity of Ransom without having the visceral reaction of recoiling with disgust. _Prick,_ she thought, mentally cursing him at the sheer disrespect he had displayed throughout their various encounters.

_Yet._

Here she was, his hand muffling the moans escaping her parted lips as he pushed himself into her more deeply. He pressed his chest firmly onto her back, his lips reminding her to be more quiet, ensuring they wouldn’t get caught. The distinct argument from the living room returned to her consciousness, hearing the stifled voice of Walter calling Joni a hippie quack through the wooden door Isla was currently against. It probably wasn’t the best idea to follow Ransom into the coat closet of the Trombey estate, considering there were other, _and roomier_ , options available. It didn’t seem logical now that she thought about it, but then again, this entire situation was far from logical.

Retrospectively, _none_ of it was logical. 

This isn’t what Isla thought she would be doing on Harlan’s 81st birthday.


	5. December

“God it’s so stupid.”

“Mhm”

“I swear Susan has it out for me, probably since day one.”

“Mm”

“It’s not like I don’t have time stamps on my emails to prove her wrong.”

“Isla, you really wanna talk about work now?”

“Sorry,” She mumbled, her eyes closing shut while her palms pressed further down against the bedsheets. “I’ll shut up.”

His mouth, still opened against her clit, pressed soft wet kisses along her skin. He pulled away from the touch while propping himself onto his forearms. The loss of heat against her skin caused her chin to tilt forward, locking eyes with Ransom’s. 

“Why’d you stop?”

“Because your mind is somewhere else.” He answered, leaning forward to peck his lips onto her inner thigh. She pressed her fingers against the loose strands of hair dangling from his forehead, slicking them back while letting out an audible sigh.

“Sorry, it’s not a ‘you’ thing.”

“Oh I know.” He grinned against her thigh, the touch of his lips melting into her skin. “You’ve complimented my mouth enough that I know you love it.”

She rolled her eyes while feeling the goosebumps from the tender touch radiating along her body. “God, you’re so fucking cocky.”

“Don’t say shit like that. Would probably get me back in the mood.” He let out a deep chuckle as his lips worked their way up her body, landing against hers. He purposely slowed the pace of his kiss, feeling her frustration as she tried to kiss him back harder.

“Do you wanna stay the night, or do you want me to take you home?” He asked once he pulled away, brushing strands of brown hair from her face, eyes peering down at her.

She raised her eyebrow at him, feeling his fingertips trailing along her jawline. “Didn’t you have half of the Bordeaux?”

“I’ve driven in worse conditions, but fair. I could call you an Uber.”

“It’s okay, I’ll stay.” She mumbled softly, neck tilting slightly to the side so she could press her lips against his palm. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“It’s fine, book releases are stressful. Been there.” 

“Tell me about it.” She smiled against his hand, Ransom beginning to peel away from her embrace entirely. Her body migrated as he began pushing himself from the king-sized bed. Her torso twisted so her gaze could follow his every move while watching him propping himself up onto his feet. He stood at the end of the bed, his hand reaching forward to give Isla’s ass a quick slap. “I’m gonna go shower, you’re free to come join if you get in the mood again.”

“I might take you up on that.” She bantered back, foot reaching forward to retaliate the hit against his thigh.

While disappearing into the master bathroom, Isla turned her body to face the barely covered windows, eyes beginning to focus on the hideous painting Ransom displayed in his bedroom. She thought the worst thing he’d ever own was that Gucci scarf, although Ransom has always had the ability to keep her on her toes. He seemed way too fond of contemporary art, with paintings completely littering the entirety of his home. The only one she liked was the Kiefer piece he displayed over his fireplace. It reminded her a lot of Monet, which she was very fond of. Although she knew the piece was a replica. Ransom was rich, but not that rich.

She pulled against the throw blanket which had bunched underneath her, rearranging the soft fabric over her chest while knees curled forward to keep herself warm. She still hadn’t gotten used to the chilliest of Ransom’s bedroom. He kept it so cold Isla was convinced it was psychological. If she knew she could get away with it, she’d keep a pair of pyjamas in his nightstand. But knowing Ransom, he’d take them off her body the second she would put them on.

The temperature of Ransom’s room became more and more apparent as their lustrous affair progressed. The first night she came over, they hadn’t even made it past the living room, instead settling for the shagged rug on the living room floor. Ransom’s hand pressed against the back of her neck, mouth full of the shagged material as she moaned out his name. Her skin was practically burning as he pushed her thigh forward, allowing himself to go deeper. The next night they managed to make it upstairs, the urgency of their act offsetting Isla’s perception of the room’s temperature. She really hadn’t noticed how cold it was until she began staying the night. The memory of her teeth clattering keeping her up that first night, paired with Ransom’s soft snores quickly coming to mind.

With time, the coldness of the room seemed to be more bearable as Ransom became more comfortable with Isla. He adamantly refused to cuddle at night, although that seemed to change overtime. It started with Ransom pressing his backside against hers while they slept, allowing some of his body heat to radiate onto her shivering skin. From time to time his feet reached back to press against her shins. Now, Ransom frequently placed his palm against her stomach while he slept, Isla sometimes waking up to him pulling her frame against his chest.

Though still lustful, the burning fire that fuelled their sexual relationship did seem to dissipate. They were more content with each other's company. Their back and forth was more genuine in nature, focusing less of their sexual tension. This pseudo-like relationship revealed Ransom to be a lot more intelligent than anticipated, and frankly fun to be around. They would joke in tandem with their sex life. The sex’s impulsivity dissolved as it became part of their daily routine.

The pitter-patter sound of the shower become more prominent into Isla’s consciousness once she failed to maintain her warmth. The thought of the hot steam against her skin seemed heavenly to her in that moment. If she was honest, that seemed more enticing than the thought of Ransom being there. After some quick debating she decided to go for it, getting up from the bed and walking over to the bathroom. She pressed her fingers along the glass door of the shower, feeling the warmth of the steam instantly falling against her skin. She hummed to herself in content.

“Is the invitation still open?”

Ransom turned around, one eye shut as his fingers messaged into his scalp. He gave her a little smile, pushing the lathered shampoo back to ensure nothing would fall into his eyes. “Of course, baby girl.”

She bit down against her lip in anticipation, stepping into the shower and immediately feeling the hot water against her backside. She arched her chest forward slightly as Ransom’s soapy hands roamed down to the small of her neck. He leaned in for a couple wet kisses, while Isla happily returned the favour. His body heat began radiating onto Isla’s cold skin, receiving instant gratification from her choice to come join him.

“Keep lathering my hair while I go down on you.” He asserted, dipping down onto his knees while placing one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Yes sir.” She grinned, the feeling of his tongue washing away all of her previous thoughts.

She couldn’t even remember what Susan did to her today.

* * *

“Morning Ransom,” Isla yawned out, her fingertips grabbing onto the coffee pot to pour herself some fresh coffee. Ransom gave her a quick head nod, going instead straight for the already prepared instant coffee Isla had made in anticipation of his awakening. This was a long time coming, knowing Ransom was so particular about his coffee taste. For what it’s worth, Isla never understood how a man who travelled all around the world, who’s arguably been exposed to some of the best coffee, would only drink Nestle instant coffee. She tried to play along at first, passively sipping on his coffee when she began to spent the night. It wasn’t until about a week when she couldn’t take it anymore. Instead they’ve come to an agreement, Ransom allowing her to keep a stash of her own coffee beans at his place now.

Ransom pressed the coffee mug to his lips to take a few gulps. He furrowed his brows slightly, Isla noticing he had probably burnt his tongue again. He had a terrible habit of drinking his coffee too quickly. She was convinced he secretly enjoyed the pain. He placed the mug down before walking over to Isla and place a peck against her temple. “You slept well?”

She nodded while sipping from her mug, knowing it would be no use to bring up _again_ the temperature of his bedroom. “Mhm”

“Good.” He smiled down at her, pressing another kiss against her forehead while reaching down to place his hands on her ass. She instinctively wrapped an arm around his neck, the other hand grasping firmly onto her warm mug. “Am I still taking you to work this morning?” 

“If you don’t mind, yeah.” She mumbled into his chest, feeling his hands giving her skin a tight squeeze. Her chest opened up instinctively in response, causing Ransom to smirk.

“Of course not, baby girl.” He added, his palms firmly grasping the bottom of her thighs, propelling her onto the kitchen counter. She gasped slightly, mostly due to the sight of some of her coffee slipping onto Ransom’s shirt. He didn’t seem to notice, or care.

Ransom was too preoccupied with her body, which seemed to call to him this morning. He normally liked to sleep in on weekdays, though Isla’s routine visits did disrupt his natural routine. Now, he’d rather spend his precious morning hours with his lips exploring the entirety of her body. He could sleep when he was dead.

She took his soft touches in stride, enjoying the tenderness of his actions which were a stark contrast to his brute love making. She admittedly enjoyed being told what to do in the bedroom, but did, from time to time, look forward to Ransom’s softer side. She placed her coffee mug down next to her on the counter, arms instinctively wrapping around him while wet kisses trailed down her neck.

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning.” She hummed, eyelids fluttering shut while Ransom’s fingertips pushed against the oversized shirt she was wearing. While bunching the fabric up towards her neck, the entirety of her body was on display for him.

He didn’t bother answering, instead his lips attaching to the newly formed bud of her breast. While circling his tongue around the sensitive skin, his palm reached forward to drag his finger along her slick folds. Her audible exhale caused a shiver down his growing cock, knowing he’d need to devour her soon.

Her lips began missing his, forcing her palms to reoriented his neck upwards so she could kiss him again. While their tongue swirled in tandem with one another, Isla’s hips bucked forward to increase the friction of her clit against Ransom’s hand. “A little eager aren’t we?” He grinned, his cheeks tingling at the sensation of her delicate palms pressed against the skin. He was completely entranced.

“That’s because I know what I want.” She whispered softly in between kisses, breathing hiking further once she felt him slip a finger inside of her. “Fuck…”

“Mm, you sound delicious. Can’t wait to bury my cock inside of you.” He gasped at her, eyes opening slightly to ensure she was enjoying herself. She was in full ecstasy, eyes rolled back, arms locked around his neck. “You look so beautiful this morning.”

Her heart fluttered at the compliment, though unable to muster a reply. Her frustration was getting to her, his third finger unable to keep her satisfied much longer. Not when he was withholding the real thing. “Please Ransom…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He replied, a genuine smile spreading from his lips. He pulled his fingers away to push the waistband of his underwear down, the garment gathering at his ankles while giving himself a few strokes. “I’m gonna take good care of you, gonna make you feel so good baby girl.”

“Mm Ransom.” She whimpered, it sounding like honey to Ransom as he pushed himself into her. The familiar stretch around him felt cozy in the moment, wanting to pull Isla closer to his chest while he continued to give her what she wanted. He instead watched as Isla leaned back against the granite countertop, legs stretching further to allow him to go deeper.

“Yeah like that Ransom…fuck.” She moaned out, lip captured between her teeth as he pulled in and out of her. Ransom’s palm landed against her hips, pulling her body slightly over the counter so he could hit that spot that would make her melt. He repeatedly hit against her cervix, enjoying how Isla unravel beneath her. He panted while maintaining a steady pace, wanting to stay focused so he could get her to her climax in moments.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He mumbled between gritted teeth, groaning deeply as her felt her begin to clench around him. She was practically mute, him knowing it was a good sign. The less vocal she got, the closest she was to her orgasm. It didn’t take long until he noticed her hips begin to convulse, bucking forward slightly while reaching her climax. She had hardly left her peak before the sensation of Ransom’s warm liquid filling her up, eyes opening to watch Ransom thrust into her a few more times.

“Fuck, that was great.” Isla panted softly, propping herself back onto her elbows to regain her composure. Ransom, still buried inside of her, leaned forward to kiss her lips “Mm, it was great.”

Just like how their late-night sex was routine, so was their morning sex. After a quick clean-up and a change of clothes, both were now wide awake and ready to officially start their morning. Both returned to the kitchen to enjoy their now lukewarm coffee, though the sex did make it worth it.

“Am I ordering for two tonight, or are you working late again?” Ransom asked, opening the fridge to see what he had available for breakfast.

“Probably working late again, but I’ll let you know.” She replied, watching as he practically scavenged his fridge for scraps. He wasn’t one to keep his fridge stocked up with produce and eggs, so chances are he wouldn’t be able to find appropriate breakfast food. Even if he did seem determined. Watching his determination did ignite curiosity in Isla. 

“Speaking of work,” She trailed off, eyebrow cocked upwards as Ransom turned back around to face her. “Walter has notices you’re not around in office as much.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” He asked shutting the door of his fridge, instead deciding to take the loss. “Pretty sure he doesn’t want me around.”

“Well yeah. But he finds it strange.” She replied, fingernails tapping the countertop. She had a point for bringing this up, but she’s not sure if she could spin the conversation in her favour. She was hoping Ransom would take the bait.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Wow. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“He’s got a point though…” She added, hoping to speed up the interrogation process. “I mean you haven’t been around much since the Baltimore conference.”

“Are you insinuating something, Hemingway?”

“I’m just talking Ransom, no need to be defensive.” She shrugged. “You still haven’t told me what you were doing that night I found you.”

He grinned at her, learning back against the kitchen island with his arms crossed over his chest. “I wouldn’t consider what you did that night ‘finding’ me.”

Isla rolled her eyes at him. “Can you not answer my question?”

“Let’s just say it’s complicated.” By now his grin had been wiped away, jaw muscles beginning to clench while he spoke. She probably should have waited for a better time to bring this up, she’s still reliant on him for a ride. But it was too late now.

“No, what we’re doing is complicated. A motive for stealing Harlan’s chapter isn’t.”

He took in a deep breath, hands wiping away the frustration from his face. “Well first of all, it’s not his chapter.”

_What?_

Ransom must have realized her eyes widen, because he quickly stammered an explanation. “Well…it was more of a collaborative effort.”

She stood quietly waiting for more clarification, growing visibly frustrated when Ransom maintained the silence in the room. “You can’t drop a bomb like that and not explain, Ransom.”

“God, you’re such a drama queen.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Last book I helped grandad with, we were working on another one. I did something to piss him off, can’t really remember what, so he decided to scrap the idea. It wasn’t until I started flirting with Jan from the editing department that she told me about the new book that basically copied our original idea. I wanted to send him a concrete message that I knew.”

Isla blinked at Ransom, almost unable to comprehend the story. She was most surprised to hear Harlan was playing just as dirty as the rest of his family. Was he really a cynical old man like the rest of the family painted him out to be?

“And?” was all she managed to reply?

“I told him what happened that night. Minus your performance, those details are just for me.”

It was unbelievable, even in moments like these he was able to get on her nerves. “Ransom, I’m being serious here.”

“Yeah yeah, relax. It’s fine now, he’s giving me a cut of the sales if I keep my mouth shut. So win win in the end.” He shrugged, placing the palms of his hands back against the granite countertop. She really hadn’t expecting a story elaborate as this one, although in reality she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Her internship at Blood Like Wine. Her sexual affair with Ransom. All of it.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” She asked, although she knew at that point it was redundant to ask.

“I’m a lot of things Isla, a liar is not one of them.”

She believed him, Ransom had never lied to her. A virtue that was honestly a curse more than a blessing. But a virtue nonetheless.

* * *

She smiled at her phone screen while being distracted at work, Ransom’s neediness apparent through his texts. He said he wanted to congratulate her on the new book release. Although, she was convinced he had something else in mind. He sneakily tried to hide his true intensions by showing her a picture of the bottle of champagne he was ‘shaving up for a special occasion’. The act would have seen genuine had Ransom not put the bottom half of his body into the picture. Bottle of champagne placed against his thigh, his growing bulge visibly seen in the shot. How transparent. 

_‘Can’t wait ;) I’ll let you know when I’m on my way over’_

It really had been a crazy day, not anticipating the launch day being as busy as it was. Her work phone was going off endlessly, confirming order placements and ensuring logistics of the shipments to other manufacturers. She doesn’t even remember taking a lunch break, instead spending her extra time ensure the proper smoothening of operations. As much as she could, at least.

This was a late night for Isla, although that wasn’t atypical in the week leading up to the launch. She was, however, glad to know her hours at the office would begin to subside. Maybe not now, apparently this sort of chaos continues a few days following a new launch. Though, the numbers for the launch currently polling did seem promising for now. Lots of Christmas stocking this year will be filled with the new Thrombey thriller.

“Here, I poured you a glass.” Walter said, breaking her train of thoughts. Isla glanced up from her iMac, lips curling into a genuine smile while she began declining the wine. She did have plans on getting drunk tonight on a bottle of Cristal. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

“Oh come on, don’t be a prude. You’ve done so much today, you deserve to celebrate.” Walter insisted, placing the dark wine in front of her keyboard. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d plan on celebrating the launch with his nephew hitting it from the back. Instead, she decided to accept the glass. “Thank you, Walt.”

She took a slow sip, mimicking Walter’s movement as he swallowed back from his own glass. He placed his cane against her desk before grabbing a neighbouring chair, setting it down next to hers. Although it was just to two of them left in the office, she was inviting enough to have him sit next to her. She could take a quick break from her last-minute work.

“Isla, you’ve been of tremendous help. Really.” He took a long pause to take another sip from his glass. “You know, I was talking with Michael today. He said his company’s board would be interested in buying the movie rights of the last release. Mentioned even a possibility of buying the rights for the new one if we keep pulling solid numbers.”

“Wow that’s great, Walt.” She reached forward, giving him a hug with an ear to ear smile. She felt his palm linger a little longer when they finally pulled from their embrace “Really, well deserved.”

“Yeah, it feels real good. Things are really moving forward here.” He added, letting his head nod slightly as he spoke, grin plastered on his face. “I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

“Well I’m happy to hear that. You have good ideas Walt, just need to follow through on them.” She added, turning away slightly so she could wash down some of her wine again.

“Yeah…”

He trailed off, letting silence settle between them. She didn’t turn her head until she heard Walter forcibly gulp down on his wine, the delicate clinking of the glass hitting her wooden desk soon to follow. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she watched Walter begin to close the distance between them, his lips now against hers.

“Woah,” was all she managed to croak out, the sensation of his prickly beard brushing against her skin immediately putting her in an alarmed mode. She leaned back before she cognitively figured out he was trying to kiss her. The silence returned between them.

Isla decided to break the stillness. “Wow I’m sorry…if I gave you the impression that I was…I didn’t mean to really. I think we have a genuine friendship and I-.”

“No no… don’t apologize. Wow, God. I’m an idiot.” He said, mustering a forced laugh from his lips. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m married for God’s sake.”

She sat there awkwardly, watching as he forced himself up from his cane.

_What the hell, Walt?_

“It’s okay, must have been the wine…” She tried to reason, knowing he’d probably start to take it out on himself. Even though she knew he had barely anything to drink.

“Yeah, must have been that...”

Both parties were silent again, Walter’s back now facing Isla. He took in a deep breath, unable to look back at her.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone.”

“Nothing to mention.” She said assertively, causing him to let out a small sign of relief.

“Thanks. Again, congrats on today.”


	6. January

She regretted not telling him. Knowing the Thrombeys, it was only a matter of time until word got out. Using that logic, it was more likely her endeavours with Ransom would come to light first. But she didn’t care about that, frankly. Sleeping with the boss’ nephew would probably not tarnish her reputation as badly as being caught locking lips with said boss. Even if the act wasn’t reciprocated.

But that wasn’t her issue. The end of her employment at Blood Like Wine was soon coming to a close, and rumours spreading around would fizzle out quickly after. She felt like she was lying to him. Coming home to him a few hours later, champagne bottle already half empty by the time Ransom was showering the nape of her neck with attention. Her stomach involuntarily turned when his drunk lips brushed against hers, the familiar prickling sensation of his week-old stubble igniting the events from earlier. She hesitated at first when she kissed him back, though Ransom’s inebriation didn’t alert him to her state. She didn’t push him away, instead going through the motions like it was routine.

The guilt was still present when she woke up the next morning. Her eyes blinked slowly as her pupils adjusted to the amber sunrise. She focused her attention on Ransom’s partially parted lips, soft snores escaping while his facial muscles rested still. Calm. She exhaled any air left in her lungs before leaning in. She gave his forehead a soft kiss before burrowing her head into his chest. Maybe the feeling would dissipate soon.

It wasn’t until she came back from the holidays that she stopped blaming herself for what happened. So what if Walt kissed her? She didn’t kiss him back. Even if she did kiss him back, or whatever, she wasn’t committed to Ransom. Being in Springfield, away from the city, away from the Thrombeys, helped clear her head. The distance inadvertently reminded her that whatever she had with Ransom was temporary. This wasn’t her family. If she wanted to cut ties with all of them after her internship, she could. Although, she wasn’t planning on cutting him out of her life. Just yet, at least.

Her enlightened perspective of the situation was soon put to the test when she got an invitation to Harlan’s New Year’s Eve party. He called her the day after Christmas, initially only to wish her a happy holiday. Although she realized there was more to the call once he stammered on about how the weather was like in Springfield.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve never been one to compare the weather from here to Boston’s. I would assume it’s not much different.” She chuckled, her frame leaning against the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. She focused her attention on the illuminated Christmas tree, noticing Mimi (her Burmese cat) reaching upwards to play with a dangling ornament.

“Right, makes sense…” Harlan trailed off, letting out a short cough on the other side of the line. “Well I hope you’ve enjoyed your time off so far.”

“I have, likewise to you.” She added, heading tilting to the side while following Mimi’s paw flicking against the plastic sphere. “Although, I have an inkling that you weren’t looking to simply wish me a Merry Christmas.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re the only one in the family who can read subtleties,” She assumed the inclusion of herself as being part of the family was a slip. But the thought still made her heart rate rise slightly. “Well it’s getting late, so I’ll get to it.”

“It’s only 9pm, Harlan.”

“Well, late for me.” He paused with a chuckle. “I know the last party I invited you to, things didn’t go as smoothly. But I wanted to know if you’d be back in town to attend my New Year’s Eve get together.”

“A get together? Sounds elegant.” She smiled, mostly at Mimi who had successfully removed the ornament from the tree. “Should be a good time, at least.” She was being sincere. At least she was excited to see what this party would bring this time around. 

Isla sipped on her chardonnay, the sounds of faint jazz music dimly maintaining the ambiance of the living room. She unfortunately found herself being cornered by Joni, who recently discovered that tea tree oil (which she insisted on calling melaleuca oil) was a great anti-inflammatory. Isla tried to fake her enthusiasm, nodding along as Joni regurgitated pseudo-science bullet points to her. She unsurprisingly began to blank out, her eyes beginning to search around for something less mind-numbing. If she was honest, the only thing she was looking forward to was seeing Ransom again.

She hadn’t heard from him in days, although that wasn’t surprising to her. He seemed somewhat upset that she was staying at her parents for the week. He casually let it slip out that he usually avoided familial contact during this time. Had she not thought it through, she would think Ransom was trying to entice her to stay. With him. Ransom didn’t seem like the type to celebrate holidays joyfully, instead giving the impression he had a more sadistic perspective of these celebrations. But that wasn’t because of some anti-capitalistic ideals he held, but Isla was speculating at that point.

“I don’t know, I thought maybe we could have gone down to Cape Cod for the week. Beaches are quiet this time of year.” He mumbled into her shoulder, arms wrapping around her waist while she stirred the sugar into her coffee.

She couldn’t help but let out a snort in return. “Yeah, it’s also freezing this time of year.” She placed the metal spoon onto the granite counter before putting the mug to her lips. “I haven’t seen my family in a while, I’m probably overdue for a visit anyway. Maybe rain check on Cape Cod for when it’s warmer?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

She assumed Ransom’s radio silence was because he found someone to take him up on the Cape Cod offer. Maybe Marisa was back in town. Or was it Melissa? Regardless of who it was, she tried not to take him being MIA personally. She at least knew he wasn’t dead, since she did receive a quick “Merry Christmas” text back from him.

That being said, she did miss his company while away and was looking forward to running into him tonight. Again, she assumed he would be attending, although it would have been a good idea to check just in case. But she ended up being right. Her jaw clenched as she held back a smile, her gaze from the living room following his determined steps into the kitchen. She turned back to Joni, quickly excusing herself so she could fill up her glass. Her glass was practically full, but she desperately needed an excuse to follow Ransom into the kitchen. Thankfully Joni hadn’t noticed

The curvature of her lips pulled into a smirk when she found Ransom alone in the kitchen. She watched as Ransom hunched forward while pouring bourbon into a shallow glass. Her steps were muffled by the general noise from the party. Jazz music still as prominent within the kitchen, and light chatter from other guests were present. She decided to try to make her presence known to him, leaning against the marble island while placing her wine glass on the surface. The clinging sound caused Ransom to shift his attention to the source. Isla pursed her lips together slightly before speaking.

“Hey asshole.”

He mimicked her smirk, the smile lines of his eyes becoming more prominent as he walked over to Isla. “Hemingway.” He called out joyously, traveling around the island in order to close the distance between them. He hooked his arm onto the small of her back before dipping forward to press his lips along her forehead. “When did you get back in?”

She unintentionally bit down on her lip at the touch. Her body began leaning forward, letting her forearms rest against the counter while keeping her attention up towards Ransom’s eyes. “Yesterday. How you been?” His eyes locked on hers, his palm pressing against her cheek. His thumb slowly began dragging against her skin, resting on the corner of her mouth.

“Why didn’t you come see me when you got back?”

She furrowed her brows at him, her head instinctively pressing against his hand. “Didn’t know you were home. I thought you were gonna be in Cape Cod.”

He shook his head, his finger now dragging against her bottom lip. “I never went.”

He began hunching forward, Isla keeping her torso still while he leaned down to kiss her tenderly. She exhaled deeply against his mouth while his fingertips lifted her chin upwards. It felt like they were back to normal again. 

“I missed you.” He spoke, barely a whisper. Both his hands where now on either side of her face, the kiss so tight it felt like he was squishing her skin. 

“I missed you too.”

“Let’s just leave,” He added, smacking his lips against hers when he pulled away slightly. “I’ll take you back to my place.”

“Maybe later, Ransom.” She added, not being able to hold back a giggle from his eagerness. “It’s barely 10.”

“I don’t care, I’d rather spend my New Year’s with you.”

“We will, just be patient.” She insisted, her palm reaching forward to push back against his slicked back hair, a single curl laying on his forehead. “Your grandfather personally invited me again. Pretty sure he wants me around for his kiss at midnight.”

He groaned at her, eyes rolling shortly after. “You’re disgusting.” His hands began slowly trailing down to the nape of her neck. 

“Learned it from you.” She retorted, his facial expressions beginning to soften as his smile returned.

“We’ll go after midnight.” She finally added. He simply nodded, leaning in for another kiss before the sound of incoming steps became more apparent. Isla quickly pulled away from Ransom’s embrace, her fingers swiftly grabbing onto her wine glass before beelining back towards the living room.

She quickly regretted not taking up Ransom on his offer to leave that moment. She often found herself seeking him out into the crowd, dozing off often from her small chit-chatter to see if he was around. Almost every time she could locate him, his eyes were fixated onto her. The stare was intoxicating and made her skin melt. She placed her palm against the back of her neck, hoping the coolness of her fingertips would help regulate her temperature. Thankfully, that’s about as heated as it got between the two. Ransom was being a good boy and kept his distance.

“You look flustered. Everything alright?”

Her vast imagination was broken in that moment, attention shifted towards the distraction. She was faced with Walter, who was reaching his hand forward. Her eyes glanced downwards to a glass of cold water. The sight of the cool glass made her instantly thirsty.

She reached forward to accept the glass, “Uh yeah, I’m okay. But thanks.” She brought the glass to her lips and took a single gulp. The water felt instantly refreshing against her tongue.

He nodded, shifting his weight slightly onto his cane before speaking again. “How was your holiday?”

This had been the first time, since Walter kissed her, he tried to make small-talk. The days following his attempt he had visibly internalized the shame towards the situation. She couldn’t help but pity him, if she was honest. Surely, she wasn’t one to condone adultery, but she could sympathize with Walter attempting to make his feelings known. She would only imagine the shame she would have felt had Ransom not reciprocated her kiss that first time she made a move. Though, she had to admit she had picked up on cues that Ransom would be receptive, something she doubted Walter really considered.

“They’ve been great. How about you?”

He nodded along, him unable to maintain eye contact with Isla for longer than a couple seconds. “Great as well, always good to spend extra time with the family.”

“Right,” She agreed, taking another big sip from her glass. Walter was incredibly nervous, it was easy to see that his mind was racing with his thoughts. She let out a deep breath, unsure if she should bring up the elephant in the room. Neither have brought it up since it happened, although Walter did often give her a daily ‘please forgive me for doing something so stupid’ type of look. It hasn’t gone away, even after the holidays. She wondered if it ever would.

She didn’t know how she managed to get out of that conversation. Isla was certain the third glass of wine that night had finally gotten to her, which impacted some of her memories from that night. She did remember at some point in the night, exiting the upstairs bathroom only to have Ransom pin her against the wall. That was a turning point in the night because that’s when she decided to give in and retire early to Ransom’s place.

Thankfully she wasn’t incoherent when she was getting ready to leave early. “Sorry to hear about your sister, let me know when the both of you get home.”

She smiled at Harlan, leaning in to give him a hug once her coat had been secured on. “Well that’s Rory for you, it was only a matter of time until she did something to her car. Thanks again for the invitation, and happy New Year’s.”

“Happy New Year’s to you too.” He genuinely smiled at her, giving her back a quick pat.

She had no idea how Ransom managed to slip out without getting noticed. She assumed this was typical of him, thus no one bothered asking question. Needless to say, they were out of the house by 11. By midnight, she was moaning his name.

* * *

Ransom kneeled onto the edge of the mattress, his hand firmly placed on the bottom of his cereal bowl as he climbed back into bed. He leaned forward, his torso laying against her thighs while placing the bowl onto her stomach. The cool porcelain caused Isla to shudder slightly, but tried to minimize it in order not to tip the bowl over.

“I got you something, you know.” He said with a mouthful of frosted flakes.

“You did?” She asked curiously, a small smirk tugging against her lips. “You know Christmas was last week, right?”

“Knock it off, you’re annoying.” He rolled her eyes at her, jaw chewing against the crunchy cereal before gulping it down. Isla giggled.

“What did you get me?” She asked, curiosity continuing to build.  
  
“Hold on,” He said, eyes signalling to her to hold onto her bowl. She followed suit before he began pushing himself back onto his feet. “I’ll go grab it.”

Her eyes followed him as he walked towards his wooden wardrobe, fixating on his ass seen prominently from his _arguably_ tight boxer-briefs. She took a spoonful of frosted flakes into her mouth.

“Is it clothes?” She asked, mouthful of cereal.

“No.”

She swallowed. “Did you get me a book? You’d be surprised how many books I get as gifts.”

“How about you shut up and open the box?” He retorted, turning back before walking to the bed once more. He reached forward to grab the bowl from her, exchanging it with a baby blue square box. She grinned from ear to ear, sitting up straight on the bed while placing the box into her lap. He watched her attentively while she undid the white ribbon and lifting the lid.

She smiled to herself, seeing a small cast iron white elephant. She reached into the box, realizing it was a little heavier than expected. Her fingers trailed along the detailed bumps and grooves of the sculpture. She was mesmerized by the rich blues and greens details of the saddle.

“I found it in an antique shop, it reminded me of you.” Ransom said, his expression remaining stoic while he spoke. He seemed somewhat nervous. “Thought you might like it.”

“I do, thank you Ransom. It’s beautiful.” She smiled, leaning forward to press her lips against his, tasting the mixture of second-hand milk and sugar. “But this does confirm you actually don’t read Hemingway, or else you’d know why this is bad luck.” She teased him, placing the elephant back into the box.

“No, I know the meaning. I just thought you’d like it.” He smiled at her, placing a kiss on her forehead before carefully laying down next to her on the bed. Although his efforts were useless because Isla reached to grab the bowl, and place it onto the nightstand.

“I love it.” She grinned before shifting her frame so she could now comfortably sit in his lap and kiss him again. “Where do you think I should put it?” 

It wasn’t like him to be sentimental, or to put a lot of thought into a gift. In all honesty, he can’t remember a time where he ever put thought into any gift. Drinks, lingerie or a gram of coke would usually do the trick if he was in a giving mood. But he knew that wouldn’t be enough for Isla, even if she never explicitly said she wanted anything. Instead, he felt compelled to give her something. Importantly, something thoughtful. For one thing, he had never been sleeping with the same girl consecutively for months. Clearly this wasn’t a random hook up he was trying to impress. But he’d never admit to her he actually put a lot of effort into the gift.

He didn’t want to admit to her he looked up Hemingway’s short story when she first brought it up months ago. He didn’t want to admit he looked up the meaning of the story to understand her reference. He didn’t want to admit he went to four different antique shops looking for a stupid white elephant.

He also didn’t want to admit that like the white elephant, he was afraid to be a burden while failing to meet expectations.

“I think it would look nice on your desk at work.” He replied to her, hands now against her hips while she reached down to peel off her shirt.

* * *

She was counting the days until the end of her employment at Blood Like Wine. 19 days to be exact, including the weekend. She was looking forward to returning to her old routine, being back on campus full-time, teaching alongside Dr. Beckham, working on her thesis at the café near her apartment. She missed all of it. And all for an internship that she frankly didn’t care for in the end.

Though her time here was not entirely wasted. She dipped her gaze slightly at the white elephant at her desk, feeling her glasses begin to slide down the bridge of her nose. Quickly pushing them back up, she smiled to herself. She was still surprised to see Ransom was thoughtful enough to get her a gift. The act hadn’t gone unnoticed, and she felt herself being grateful that he thought of her. She was unsure how thoughtful he was being, if the act was a complete accident or not. It was a little tacky if she was being honest, which honestly reminded her of him. She liked having a piece of him around the office since he hadn’t made an appearance in weeks.

“Isla, can you please bring me the expense reports from the past week?”

Walter’s soft grumble from the other side of the phone forced her back into reality. She nodded her head quickly, her empty hand opening the file cabinet in her bottom drawer to obtain the file in question. “Sure thing, I’ll drop them off in a second.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, instead placing the phone back into place. She was heading towards his office shortly after, taking in a deep breath in anticipation. As expected, things were never going to be back to normal with Walter. Her run-in with him at Harlan’s party did help appease some of the awkwardness. But Isla was convinced nothing at this point would remove that awkwardness entirely. Only distance.

_Just 19 more days. 19 more days and you never have to see this man again._

She realized she had stopped the second she got to his office door. She was used to waltzing in without knocking, but the sound of a muffled argument coming from his office made her second guess. Now that she thought about it, she did notice a faint feminine voice coming in from the other end of the phone. But she thought she might have imagined that.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with it,” Linda scoffed audibly. Isla, at that point, decided to knock on the door slightly while slowly peering through. Walter shifted his gaze away from his sister, resting on Isla momentarily. He gave her a nod that she could come in.

“Do you realize how complicated it’s going to get? You have to hire an agent and you need a contract lawyer to go through all the logistics.” She continued to ramble as Walter turned his attention back to his bickering sister. Isla took a couple steps towards Walter, placing the requested file on his desk.

“You think I don’t know that? This isn’t something I thought about just yesterday, you know.” He rolled his eyes at her, peaking quickly into the file to ensure it was what he wanted. “Thank you, Isla.”

“No problem,” she nodded, answering almost inaudibly.

Linda, completely ignoring Isla’s presence, leaned back into her seat while letting out a frustrated sigh. “Okay even so, let’s say all of that is resolved. Once they have the rights, they can do anything with a movie adaptation. You really want to put dad’s reputation in the hands of some random guy.”

Walter couldn’t help but scoff. “You’re one to talk about reputation. Why don’t you watch a couple of their movies and then we’ll talk.” Isla was unsure if she was being dismissed at that point. Usually Walter was pretty straight forward with her, but the uncertainty made her anxiety grow while watching the arguing ensue.

“Do you need anyt-”

“I think you’re naïve to even put dad in that situation.” Linda countered, head cocking to the side as she continued talking down to him. He exacerbated while resting his chin on his hand. He was about to fold.

“What’s your point, Linda?”

Walter’s brows began to furrow as he turned his attention towards Isla. She didn’t even realize she had said it audibly. Linda followed suit after, her eye now aiming back at the intern in the room.

“Excuse me?”

Isla mentally gulped down her words, hoping she could erase them in that moment. “Nothing.”

“I don’t think it was nothing.” Linda was practically teasing at this point, mimicking some of the argumentative qualities seen in Ransom. Isla felt her heart begin to pound, noticing Walter was just as surprised as she was. She was stuck, and Linda probably wouldn’t stop until Isla spoke what was really on her mind. Linda was looking for another fight.

“I just don’t understand…” Isla began, spine straightening out as she spoke. “You’re entitled to your own opinion, but at the end of the day it’s his decision to make. What’s the point in bringing it up?”

Palms began to sweat as she watched Linda practically seethe. She forced out a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m sorry Isla, I don’t remember asking for your input.” That was a breaking point for her, for some reason. She still didn’t know why.

“That’s funny because no one here was asking for yours.”

The sound of Walter’s snort caused the both of them to shift their attention towards him. Linda squinted her eyes slightly before turning her back to Isla. She eyed her down for a while, forcing a small smirk.

“Listen, I’m not going to start insulting you because you’re young and clearly haven’t learned boundaries yet. I’m just going to say you’ll get nowhere with that attitude.”

“Wow” was all Isla was able to say. She knew she had more fuel to keep going off, but she had to somewhat agree this wasn’t becoming of her. She wasn’t one to talk back, especially in a place of employment. Even if Linda was being a hypocrite. She wanted to be the bigger person.

Linda grinned to herself after silence settled between them. She turned her attention back to Walter, returning to back to her comfortable seat. “Extremely unprofessional, if you ask me.”

Isla couldn’t hold back the comment, Linda had perfectly set it up to her. “What’s unprofessional is me catching your husband staring at my ass during Harlan’s party. Twice, might I add. If you can’t control him maybe invest in a leash.”

With that, Isla stomped her way out of the office after ensuring to close the door a little harder than usual. She felt pure adrenaline pumping through her veins while pacing back towards her desk.

The end of the month couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

The water was practically lukewarm at this point. Isla was used to having nearly scorching hot baths to help relax and soothe her skin. It took her forever to convince Ransom to take a bath with her, and she was even more surprised that the first time he accepted it was when they were at her place. The combination of the hot water with the small tub left him a total of three minutes in with her. He insisted the next time would be at his place, with the water not as warm. He wasn’t initially fond of the bath bubbles, insisting it hid her body from him. But they found a compromise in the end.

She let her eyes flutter shut as she leaned back into his chest. She signed in content, feeling his tender fingertips roam the length of her arm. The bubbles squished against her when he pressed on her skin further, followed by a wet loofah dragging along her torso.

“Guess what came in the mail today.” Ransom whispered into her temple. She kept her eyes closed as Ransom began to circle her breasts. 

“A letter from the Maury show.”

“You know, you should really go into comedy.” He exacerbated at her, splashing some of the water up towards her face. She giggled. “Try again.”

“I don’t know,” She tilted her head upwards until their eyes locked, pressing her left palm onto his chest. “What came in?”

She heard the water dripping from his fingertips before running his hand through her damp hair. “I got my first royalty check from the book.”

“Congrats on exploiting your geriatric grandfather for royalties.” She chuckled at him, her head leaning back into his touch. While maintaining eye contact, her hand began to gently rub his wet skin. “Book sales have been great, I’m assuming you got a nice payday?”

“I did,” He leaned in, pressing his mouth onto her cheek. “I’m debating what to do with the money.” He added before dropping the soaped loofah into the tub.

“I say you use that money to invest in better paintings.”

He laughed before placing his soaped hand on her chin, his wrinkled fingertips tilter her gaze to him. “Might invest in some duct tape to keep your mouth shut.”

“Awe, is that a promise?” She cooed at him, causing him to grin widely.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” He leaned in closer to kiss her, the smack of their lips together echoing throughout the bathroom. Her arm began hooking behind his neck, her lathered chest now firmly pressed against his.

“How about I take you out this Friday night?” He pulled away, staring down his nose at her.

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale.” She satirically gasped, pulling from his embrace and leaning onto her knees stationed between his legs. His fingers trailed down to her side, surely ready for whatever show she was about to put on. “Never would I have expected you to formally invite me on a real date. Didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”

He wasn’t surprised that she had brought that up, he knew she’d make a comment the second he’d ask her. She teasingly remarked that he wasn’t the type to make romantic gestures. Although there was a general understanding between the two that this was a more casual affair, she did let it slip a couple times that she wasn’t used to this level of disconnect. Ransom internally agreed. The way this relationship progressed, should it keep moving forward, would ultimately lead to a more traditional monogamous pairing.

He rolled her eyes at her. “Don’t start again

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it yet, if it was something he’d be whiling to do. He liked his independence; he was practically raised that way. He wanted to know he wasn’t tied down to a single person, mostly because he could never truly dependent on anyone. Not fully, at least.

“Are you going to pick me up?” She teased him back, feeling the water splash beneath her as she climbed into his lap.

But he found himself wanting to explore that side, for the first time in a very long time. It was ridiculous to say, but he felt safe with Isla. And he knew she’d appreciate the gesture too. Even if she was alright playing these little games with him, he knew she wanted to be taken care of.

He couldn’t hold back his smirk. His hands aided her as she positioned herself comfortably onto his lap. “Stop it.”

She was incredibly self-sufficient. She didn’t need him at all, he told himself that a hundred times. She could easily find someone that could give her everything she wanted.

“Are you going to buy me flowers too, and kiss me goodnight if the date goes well?”

He watched as the droplets of water from her hair fell onto his chest, the dripping causing goosebumps to radiate as his skin cooled. His hands migrated up towards her cheeks. 

“I’m about to call an Uber to take you home.” 

He’s heard it many times, from many different people. His parents, his therapists, girls he dated, friends from school, that he was emotionally unavailable. And he was, with Isla, initially at first. But he didn’t want to anymore.

She smirked down at him, watching as his breathing hiked slightly. She could feel a shiver slowly building up, instinctively leaning forward to connect her lips for warmth. “You thinking dinner?”

“Mhm,” he hummed against her mouth, his thumb resting on her earlobe while his pruned fingers stroked the nape of her neck. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s up to you. You’re paying, right?”

He laughed beneath her before pressing himself a little too forcedly onto her frame. She began tipping backwards, letting out a muffled yelp while lowering back into the tub. Ransom’s hand quickly moved down to her back to ensure she wouldn’t be entirely submerged.

“Dinner it is, maybe drinks too.”

* * *

Isla was practically counting down the minutes for when Ransom would come pick her up that night. Friday couldn’t have come earlier, let alone 8pm. She was practically back to her old work schedule, especially after Walter decided to finally follow through with the movie deal. This meant Walter had a lot more responsibilities with this new venture, meaning his day to day operations had unfortunately fall on Isla’s shoulders.

Walter, wrapping his knitted scarf around his neck, stopped momentarily when he walked by her desk. “Have a good weekend, Isla. See you Monday.” 

She forced a smile and give him a nod. “You too, Walt

She decided to roll over and take the extra workload in stride. _Only 14 days_ , she reminded herself, _until it would be over_. Walter had let it slip more often than none that if she wanted it, she had a full-time position at Blood Like Wine. She of course didn’t want it, instead opting to return to her typical student life. Working her way up a publishing company was not a career she aspired to follow. 

She glanced back at her iMac as Walter shut the door behind him. As the emptiness of the office settled, Isla found herself focusing her concentration to finish the last of her daily tasks at hand. She knew it was probably a little sloppy, but it was late enough in the day that she couldn’t seem to care. Not when Ransom was on his way.

Her phone chimed, the screen illuminating with a new text.

_“You done yet?”_

Her eyes glanced down momentarily to type her reply.

_“15 mins”_

But that wasn’t good enough for Ransom. She knew he was impatient, so it was only a matter of time until Ransom would make an appearance. She opted to ignore his presence at first, although she caught herself following him as he looked around the office. He glanced around, quite suspiciously, before beginning to relax. The sound of Isla’s fingertips tapping on her keyboard caught his attention, taking strides towards her.

He sat down on her desk, hands reaching to grab the white elephant from its place. “Nice to see you found a home for the little guy.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the comment, forcing herself to keep her eyes glued to the screen. “Yeah, I think he fits well with the décor.”

He nodded his head as he placed the elephant back on the desk, tilting it slightly so the sculpture would be facing Isla. Isla turned her focus slightly, eyes landing on the elephant.

“You done yet?”

“Almost, yeah. When did you say you made the reservation?”

He took his time answering while propelling himself onto his feet. He let his fingertips drag along the oak surface, now standing tall behind her. He lifted his palm and placed them on her shoulder blades.

“8:30.”

She nodded in response, finding it harder to concentrate as his fingers began to knead into her skin. She took in a deep breath, hoping he’d lose interest sooner rather than later.

“You look nice tonight...” He trailed off, his hot breath brushing along her neck while dipping his head forward. She let an exhale just as deep, knowing she was naïve enough to think he’d get bored.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, feeling her eyelids begin to grow heavier as his lips connected with her skin. “I just have a couple things to finish up.” She reminded.

He hummed against her, palm tossing her hair to her left side to expose more skin.

“I know.”

 _Fuck_ , she thought. She gave in to the affectionate touch, letting her eyes close momentarily. She knew no one was around, and his wandering hands wouldn’t be a problem.

“I’m starting to think you get turned on by being in the office.”

He shook his head, his warm tongue brushing along her collarbone while his hands palmed her breasts through her clothes.

“No, it’s just you.”

He was now kissing her neck, teeth beginning to playfully bite along the crook. She audibly moaned, partially in frustration. “Ransom, c’mon…”

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He said against her skin, his hands managing to slip under her top. His warmth caused the pit of her stomach to tie in knots in anticipation. Heat rushed to her core as it kept building.

“You know I’m not going to…”

He grinned against her skin, hand snaking below at the band of her pants. “Then relax baby girl.”

She felt her head practically overdose on lust. He had a certain ability to lure her in a way that caused her to forget everything. His experienced fingers were already working wonders on her sensitive skin. Within seconds, she went from working hard to straight putty. She melted into his touch, moans escaping her lips. He used his free hand to tilt her head upwards, capturing her mouth with a harsh kiss.

She kissed him back just as sloppily, her wet tongue entangled with his. Within moments, he picked her up from her chair and placed her onto the desk. The sense of déjà vu was so prominent, some of the same emotions began to resurface. This was primal and erogenous. She couldn’t think of anything in that moment but him. She was drunk by his charm.

“Up,” was all he let escape from his lips, Isla lifting her hips upwards while he began pulling down her pants. She began to flutter kick them off her shins, aided partially by Ransom. Though, he was also preoccupied, pushing his own pants down.

She didn’t want to wait for him to take the rest of his clothes off. She didn’t want him to make her wait. And he didn’t. He pushed her panties to the side and pressed into her with slow strokes. Isla showed how receptive she was by groaning out deeply. A sharp pain was initially present at the lack of foreplay, but her lapsed mind paid no attention after a few seconds. She never removed her lips from Ransom’s, even for a moment. Neither of them spoke at all.

She was convinced she’d never feel the same passion she felt the first time she slept with Ransom. Maybe it had to do with the thrill of their act in a public place. She recounted a similar feeling that night of Harlan’s party. It was like she had been addicted, and finally got another fix. Nothing else in that moment mattered. His hips forcibly slapping against hers, his tongue skillfully exploring her mouth, his fingernails sinking into her inner thighs.

She felt herself starting to get lightheaded, realizing it had been a while since she went for air. She begrudgingly pulled away from his lips, allowing her chin to settle on his shoulder. She grunted in unison with his harsh thrusts, one hitting her cervix with such force she opened her eyes.

Instantly she felt her stomach drop. Her mouth began to open in a gasp while her hands frantically moved from his hair to press against his chest. “Fuck Ransom, stop.”

He picked up his head, previously nuzzled into her neck, eyebrows cocking up in confusion. “Wha-, what happened?”

“Ransom, get off.” She added, pushing a bit harder this time. “Shit.”

Ransom was able to take the hint, him pulling away from her. “Oh my God.” He heard her say, feeling her palms nudge him further back so she could jump from the desk. She quickly bent down on the ground while desperately grabbing at her pants.

“Isla?”

The familiar voice caused Ransom to turn his attention away from Isla, them falling on his uncle standing just as confused by the main entrance. “Oh fuck…” He whispered under his breath, following Isla’s lead as he dipped to pull his pants back from his ankles.

Isla’s skin was burning in embarrassment due to the combination of the adrenaline from being caught and her building orgasm. Both her and Ransom were panting, though Ransom was now nervously chuckling to himself.

Walter stood there in absolute shock, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to piece together who was here with Isla. He didn’t figure it out until he heard his nephew laugh.

“Ransom? What are you doing here?”

Isla was practically paralyzed in embarrassment, her eyes shifting to Ransom to see if he’d take the lead. It wasn’t necessarily that Walter found out about them that was the problem, mostly that they were caught fucking in the office. That surely wouldn’t look good on her part.

Ransom was still somewhat amused, his hands now placed on his hips while taking a few short breaths. “I uh…well I normally would say it’s not what it looks like.”

Walter felt his stomach began to fill, with anger to his surprise. He initially wanted to say he had come back to retrieve the phone he left in his office. However, things were different now. _Now_ that he saw Ransom there, lips curved into a smug grin, hands placed on his hips with his chest out. He had enough. He turned his focus to Isla, who’s skin was noticeably flushed now.

“Really, with him?”

Isla had a lump in her throat. She desperately looked for words to explain herself, unsure if she should just apologize instead. She glanced quickly at Ransom, who’s palm was now covering his mouth to hide his smirk. Isla managed to stutter out a response. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry that was completely unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional, really?” Walter scoffed at her, head shaking slightly in exacerbation. “Wow Isla, I didn’t realize you were such a whore.”

_Woah._

That’s the last thing she expected to hear from him. Ransom shared the same sentiment, his expression completely dropping once he heard what Walter had to say. Ransom’s palm dropped to his side, his head tilting slightly while he maniacally gazed at his uncle. “What the fuck did you call her?”

Ransom took a step forward, Isla unconsciously reaching upwards to grab onto his wrist. The contact caused Ransom to withdraw slightly.

“I mean come on, him?” He added, completely ignoring Ransom’s comment. “He’s practically the runt of the family. You do realize he doesn’t have his own money, right? Everything he owns he gets from his mother.” Walter had something ignite in him that had been turned off in years. Countlessly, over his life, he’d been made out to be the punching bag of the family. And now, after taking Isla under his wing, she had practically betrayed him in the worse way possible. He felt so deceived he was seething in rage. He waited a minute before continuing his rambling, gathering his thoughts to ensure she really understood how he felt.

“If you’re screwing him, you’re dumber than I thought.”

Isla blinked blankly at Walter, unsure if she was dreaming this encounter or not. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, but never in a million years did she expect for this harsh of an encounter. Especially from Walter. “I’m sorry?” was all she was able to say, visibly confused by everything.

“You heard me.”

Ransom had enough. Like a rabid dog, he was looking to fight. He took another step forward, Isla pulling back forcibly to get him to stop. He stopped again to her request, but was ready to knock out Walter the second he got the go from her. Isla noticed how intensively Walter was staring back at Ransom, being able to piece together this sudden surge of tension between the two. 

“Is this because I didn’t kiss you back?”

Both men turned their attention back at her. Walter snorted, replying “Wow, you really are dumb if you think that.”

But Isla wasn’t worried with his reply, instead turning to Ransom who was now more confused than ever. “What, he kissed you?”

Her heart sank, the guilt from keeping it from him unexpectedly hitting her like a truck. She cursed herself, lips slowly parted as she looked for the right response. There was none, if she was honest. She should have told him the second it happened. She really hated having to admit it to him now, especially given the circumstances. “Yeah, he did. A while ago. But I pushed him away.”

“She’s leaving out a lot of details, don’t act like you were innocent.”

Isla snapped her attention back at Walter, practically spitting back her response. She knew he was trying to play mind games at this point. “You’re delusional, Walter, if you thought I wanted to do anything like that with you.”

“I’m not delusional at all, Isla.” Walter took a step forward, Ransom retaliating with one as well. This time, Isla didn’t pull back. “You’re a very cunning woman, you knew exactly what you were doing when you lead me on.”

She scoffed, unable to fathom how he was able to misconstrue a genuine friendship, at least on her end, the way he was doing. “Wow, you’re such an asshole. Just because I was being nice to you doesn’t mean I wanted to sleep with you.”

“Well I’m allowed to be an asshole, Isla! No?” He yelled out, throwing his hands up in the air. “When he’s being an asshole, its endearing enough that you’re sleeping with him, right? What’s the difference?”

“Fuck you, Walt.” Ransom interjected, coming in soon enough. Isla could see his fist begin to form. 

“No, fuck you Hugh. You fucking low life.”

Walter shook his head in disbelief, switching his cane to his other hand so he could shift his weight. Isla took this down time while the silence settled between them to press her hand tenderly on Ransom’s bicep. She softly dragged her thumb along his covered skin before leaning in to say “Let’s just go. Please.”

Random softened like butter at the request. He nodded his head as his palm began to relax. He could find the opportunity to knock Walter out some other time. But he knew that would probably upset Isla, especially now. It was better if they removed themselves from the argument. Isla pulled away from her hold when she felt comfortable Ransom had calmed down. That’s when she grabbed her things, and bolted with Ransom towards the exit.

She didn’t bother glancing back at Walter during that moment, knowing if she interacted with him, it would probably make things worse. Fortunately for her, this was the last time she ever spoke to Walter again, his last words to her being:

“And don’t bother coming in next week. You’re fired, obviously.”


	7. February (Epilogue)

_**Tuesday, February 16, 2016** _

“I don’t wanna.”

“Come on babe, the food is getting cold.”

Isla whined as she felt Ransom’s palm nudge her thigh. She retaliated by grabbing onto the duvet cover and pulling it over her head. “I thought the whole point of my birthday is to do whatever I want.”

Ransom chuckled, watching her nuzzle into a fetal position underneath him. He lowered himself onto his knees before leaning forward until his elbow made contact with the mattress. “Yes, usually.”

“Then I want to keep sleeping.”

He used his free hand to brush the duvet away from her face. Her eyes remained shut under his touch, even when his fingertips trailed along her jawline. Gently. “I promise you it’s worth it. Breakfast is kind of my forte.”

She was more preoccupied with his wandering hand then his words. She shifted her head slightly to open her neck to him. Although, she noticed inconsistencies in his words. “I’ve never even seen breakfast food at your place before.”

“Well good thing we’re at your place. And you never see breakfast food at my place because I save it for special occasions.” He added before giving the skin between her jaw and earlobe a kiss. The touch made her eyes open. _What a weird thing to deprive yourself of_ , she thought, _breakfast food out of all things._

“Is this a special occasion?”

He smiled as he felt Isla shift below her. “I would hope so.”

Isla sighed, as if exacerbated. She knew in that moment that he wouldn’t let her sleep, so why fight it much longer. Her hand instinctively began rubbing the tired from her eyes. She turned her attention to him once her eyes focused again, noticing his palm now petting her hair back. “Morning, baby girl.”

“Morning.” She yawned.

She couldn’t help but reach upwards to make contact with Ransom’s cheeks. She was now aware he was incredibly close, his hot breath brushing against her skin, a warmth radiating along her body. Her lips moved before her mind registered she was leaning in. His mouth happily opened in response, snaking his arm under her head as she held it up. She hummed to herself once her tongue connected with his, it being soft and delicate.

“You have morning breath.” He teased her while her lips migrated to his neck.

“You never cared before.”

“I don’t.” He clarified, his eyes now shut that she began nipping at the skin just above his collarbone. “I just want to get you out of bed.”

Her fingers grasped onto the collar of his shirt, pulling the fabric out of the way. “You going soft on me Ransom?” Her voice was softer than a whisper, the taunting causing Ransom’s elbow to buckle forward, his boxer briefs tightening around his waistband. “First, you’re making me breakfast. Now you’re trying to get me out of bed?”

“I don’t think I was going soft on you last night.”

She didn’t reply at the retort, keeping her lips attached to his bruising skin while her hands connected with the base of his neck. “All because I call you my boyfriend now?”

The word still felt foreign to her lips. She hardly brought it up, instead opting to use it only when introducing him to others. Sometimes she’d use it teasingly, mostly because of how receptive he seemed to be by it. After months of sleeping around, it was still puzzling to her that he’d enjoy it as much as he did. Including that moment, now feeling his firm cock press in between her legs. She didn’t even remember when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“You love driving me crazy, don’t you?”

“I save it for special occasions.” She parroted back, her mouth forcibly getting detached from his skin as he tilted her jaw upwards. She was giddy when he made contact with her lips. His kiss, now entirely engulfing, took her breath away. She was practically trying to steal the oxygen from his lungs. She moved her hips in tandem with his, the friction of the fabric separating the two warming their touch. She moaned once his hand made direct contact with her pulsating core.

“I thought the food was getting cold?” She croaked while his agile fingers circled her clit. Her hands began pushing down his briefs.

“You have a microwave, don’t you?”

She couldn’t control her smirk as his eagerness became more apparent. “That’s my boy.”

Moments went by in a flash, subtle memories of sweat-slicked skin gliding against hers while he engulfed them both in hotness. The familiar stretch caused her lips to curl, almost comforted by the act. His tongue hot and wet against the crook of her neck practically sent her over the edge in that moment. Her name on his lips was entrancing while his nails sank into her inner thighs. She was fighting a sudden urge to tell him she loved him.

_It was too soon for that._

She turned her attention back to Ransom as the tightness of her core began to dissipate. He had already begun to put his clothes back on while Isla worked attentively to regulate her temperature again. She partially removed the duvet from her body, allowing her top half to breathe a little. Her gaze now shifted to the blank ceiling with her arms sprawled out.

“If your intention was to get me out of bed, I think you’ve just made it worse.”

“Tell me about it.” He smirked at her while dipping down to press his lips on her cheek. “I’ll go get your breakfast.”

“I wasn’t wrong, Ransom,” She called out as he paced into the kitchen. “You are going soft on me.” He returned with two plates in his hands, which prompted her to sit up from the bed. Her stomach began churning from the excitement alone.

“If you’d prefer me to be demeaning, I could do that too.” He teased. “How did Walt phrase it again? Called you a conniving whore?”

She rolled her eyes while taking the plate from him. “God, don’t remind me. And I don’t think he used the word conniving.” She placed the plate onto her duvet covered lap before examining the intricate breakfast he had made her. She maybe expected a plate of burnt scrambled eggs. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised with French toast topped with an assortment of berries. It was even decorated, as if there was a pattern to the berry placement. It was well thought out. She raised both of eyebrows, letting out a small hum in satisfaction.

“You didn’t have whipped cream, I checked. They’re usually better with it.” He said once he noticed her eyeing her plate without digging in. He practically plopped into the bed while balancing the plate in his hand. He handed her a knife and fork before placing his plate on the mattress in front of him directly.

“No, it looks great. Didn’t even know you knew how to make French toast.” She smiled at him while taking the cutlery from him.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Gibbs.” He said while popping a blackberry into his mouth.

“No shit.” She chuckled as she cut herself a piece. “A family recipe?”

He shook his head. “Not at all, you think my parents had time to teach me how to make anything?” Her eyebrows furrowed at the comment. He seemed so nonchalant about his upbringing, occasionally making these types of comments as if it was normal. She never brought it up though, not knowing if it was a sensitive subject. Even now. “I used to get up really early when I was younger, and the nanny would keep me busy by making me help with breakfast.”

“That’s really sweet.” She said while going in for another bite. “It’s really good too. I hope you were nice to her.”

“Yeah, she was great.” He paused momentarily while placing a fork into his plate. “She was Scottish. She taught me how to make drop scones too.”

She let out a chuckle in between chews. “You weren’t kidding when you said breakfast was your thing. Did you make coffee too?”

“Yeah, it’s in the kitchen.”

Her bottom lip pouted out, practically batting her eyelashes at him. “You mind getting it for me?” His eyes rolled as he stood up from the bed.

“I make you breakfast, I whore myself out to you, and you’re still asking for more?” He rambled jokingly.

“It’s my birthday, right? Roles will be flipped once it’s yours.”

He walked back into the room momentarily. “Yeah, on my birthday I’m locking you in a beach house in Cape Cod for a weekend.”

She smiled widely once he handed her the mug, which was partially room temperature at that point. “Thank you.”

“Of course, happy birthday.” He said softly, returning to the bed. His eyes seemed glued to her in that moment, watching as her lips curled around the rim of the ceramic mug. Her attention shifted back to her plate, but his gaze never changed. Even with her breasts still fully exposed, her hair practically framing them, Ransom only stared at her eyes. Only momentarily glancing down to her smile when her attention focused back on her plate. He couldn’t even register what she was talking about.

_Fuck._

Retrospectively, that moment when he watched her peacefully eat, unable to muster the strength to eat himself, that was the moment he realized he was in love with her.

* * *

_**Thursday, February 16, 2017** _

She felt uneasy the moment she got out of her Uber. It was reminiscent to the first time she visited Harlan’s estate. It was somber and gloomy, even if it was the middle of the day. She readjusted the falling strap of her messenger bag as it began slipping from her shoulder. Her attention redirected momentarily, balancing the filled Tupperware container in her other hand. She glanced back to her Uber driver, providing a small nod of the head before beginning to step towards the threshold of the home. 

Isla was being petty, she was well aware of it. Ransom could have easily dropped her off. Honestly, he could have come with her too. She had learned fairly early on that regardless of his shortcomings, Harlan did enjoy his grandson’s company. It was hard to explain, because she was in a similar predicament. He was arguably awful at times. He’d be snappy, or ignorant, or condescending, impressively unintentionally. But from time to time, he’d flash her a genuine smile, give her forehead a peck, or take out her trash without asking, and it would all be worth it. The persistent headache he gave her was something she could live with.

Her and Ransom were technically not on bad terms anymore. She did forgive him. Yes, their last fight was a little explosive, even to her standards. The thoughts of Ransom’s skin burning bright red as his voice rose came to her. Isla, who was sitting down on the couch, leaned her cheek into her palm as she watched a grown man practically throw a temper tantrum. The glimmer of her sequence dress reflected the room’s light towards him, landing momentarily against his collarbone. She mentally rolled her eyes at him, knowing if she brought herself to physically do it, it would have made things worse. 

“Come on Isla, this is ridiculous! You’re not even giving me a straight answer.” 

Her eyes rolled, her dissatisfaction of his comment finally getting to her. “I’m literally just talking. I’m just telling you about the opportunity. I haven’t decided anything yet.” 

“But Liverpool, really? How long would it be?” 

She could hear the hurt in his voice. His breath was quickening as he tried to maintain a sense of composure. Shoulders were straight while he spoke, his lips partially open as he waited for her response. She didn’t have a good answer.

“I don’t know, Ransom. Two, maybe five years? Depends on what my research would be.” He practically forced any air remaining in his lungs, swaying his head slightly as if the timeline was completely unfathomable.

“Five years?! Are you serious?” He called out more aggressively, the hands previously resting on his hips now in the air. She turned her attention away from his cinema, feeling herself start to overwhelm with emotion. She was pretty good at holding them back, but lately it had been harder. She could feel her eyes slightly start to sting and hoped that the shift in attention would minimize the stimulation she was experiencing. She didn’t want to start crying. Not now, not again. She started blinking to herself, her eyes landing on the Kiefer piece over his fireplace. 

“I’m meeting with the prof sometime next week. I’ll know more information then.” 

“Why can’t you just do your PhD with Dr. Beckham?” 

She decided to turn back to Ransom, who was still visibly distraught. He regulated his emotion similarly to a toddler, meaning he couldn’t. He was upset. He was angry. He hated that she made him feel this way. She didn’t like seeing him like this. But she didn’t like how he was guilting her into looking outside of the country for educational opportunities. Even _looking_. Nothing had been confirmed. This was ridiculous.

“I don’t even know if I want to do my PhD or not. I met Dr. Chapman at a seminar, and I found his research interesting. So, I introduced myself. I didn’t even submit an application to Liverpool yet.” 

“Yet?” He pestered, and with that, Isla had had enough. If she kept going, she would start crying for sure. She smacked her lips together audibly while getting up from the couch. Her jaw clenched down any words and insults she wanted to throw back at him. He was being absurd and overtly controlling. He paused his theatrics momentarily as he watched her shift in mood.

“I think I’m just gonna go home.” 

She readjusted the hem of her dress before grabbing onto her coat slouched over the couch. She barely tied the fabric around her body before beginning to click her heels towards the front door. “Tell Harlan I said Happy New Year.” 

“Yeah, go tell him yourself bitch.” 

She didn’t even skip a beat when she spat back “Fuck you, Ransom”. She ensured to slam the door behind her as a final clue that he had pissed her off.

Needless to say, Ransom was not the best with apologies. Initially, he reverted to his old tactics to buy her forgiveness. The following morning, flowers were sent to her apartment, which she simply threw away. A few days later, he still hadn’t heard from her.

_‘Did you get my flowers?’_

She had her meeting with Dr. Chapman.

_‘Isla don’t ignore me’_

And it was wonderful.

_‘Don’t make me come to Jamaica Plain, you know I hate it there’_

She had a reason why she was ghosting him. Yes, she did want to keep him squirming and on edge. Primarily, she was doing it because she wanted to know for sure if she could get in first. Surely it was a good thing she found a prospective supervisor, but the program was competitive enough. Once it was said in an official letter, and when she started going through the visa process, then she’d tell him.

He had another idea in mind. It had been about three weeks since she saw him on New Year’s Eve when he decided to ambush her at her apartment door. Thankfully for him, she had just come back from doing groceries, and wasn’t able to hold onto the filled bags much longer.

“I’m sorry, really.” He instantly badgered. She took a step back, determined to make it to her fridge.

“Can you please get out of my way? Don’t corner me when I’m trying to put groceries away.” 

“Sorry,” He added a second time, stepping to the side to provide direct access. She began stuffing her avocados into the bottom drawer.

“What are you sorry about?” 

“For calling you a bitch.” 

She huffed, placing her milk carton on the top shelf. “That’s all? Sounds like you’re just sorry I’m not fucking you anymore.” 

“No, that’s not it.” He deeply sighed. He watched as she grabbed onto her head of lettuce before stepping in between her and the fridge. “Isla come on, stop.”

“Stop what? You’re the one who invited yourself into my home. What do you want me to do?” She could feel the anger start to build, enough to increase her heart rate. 

“Just...” He trailed off softly, reaching forward to grab the head of lettuce from her clenching fingers. “Let me put them away for you.”. She began biting the inside of her lip. She hated that he made her feel so weak, and emotional. She couldn’t understand why he easily got under her skin like that.

“This was a bad idea, you should go.” 

“Isla...” He frowned, noticing a tear overflow from the corner of her eye. She reached upwards to wipe it away before he managed to do so himself.

“I’m really sorry, I don’t want to make you cry.” 

“I know you don’t.” She mumbled, feeling her lips quiver slightly as she spoke. She couldn’t bring herself to look directly at him, even though he was glued to her. His gaze was scorching on her skin. He reached upwards and pressed his palms against her cheeks. He wanted to tilt her head so she could look directly at him, but the stiffness of her neck alerted him that he should probably leave it. 

“I just love you so much, okay? I didn’t want you to be away from me for so long. But now I know even if you go to Liverpool, it’s not the end of the world. It won’t be forever.” 

This wasn’t the first time he told her he loved her. She knew well before he had said it that he did. But it was so rare for him to be honest, that when he did say it, it felt like the first time. Her chest tightened as she felt herself succumb to his touch. His words. She wanted to melt into him and accept with words willfully. But she wanted to have the upper hand. 

“Mhm.” 

“I miss you so fucking much...” 

She licked her lips slightly, eyes now shut to minimize the number of tears that would overflow. “I miss you too.” She admitted. 

He smiled to himself, knowing she would be more receptive now to more physical touch. His arm snaked from her cheeks around her shoulders. He pulled her into his chest. Tightly. She was practically suffocating from his large arms surrounding her head. Her forehead pressed into his chest. She opened her eyes and allowed the rest of her tears to spill onto his cable knit sweater. She took in a shaky breath, which Ransom retaliated by squeezing his arms harder. 

It was still rocky between those two, they still haven’t fully recovered weeks later. Isla was more to blame for this. Ransom was trying to be more open and thoughtful, but Isla was closing herself to him. Mostly because they hadn’t brought up Liverpool yet, and she knew the second she did it would cause another fight.

Isla was greeted by a face she had gotten to know well over the past two years. She handed her coat over to Fran before thanking her. She insisted she wanted to carry the Tupperware container herself, which Fran reluctantly allowed after some bantering.

“He should be in the study.” Fran finally added, to which Isla nodded before heading upstairs. 

“Hey old man,” She grinned from ear to ear giving the opened wooden door a quick knock. 

“Hey, Isla.” He called out, his palms pressing onto his desk before walking over to her. She helped close the gap between them and placed the container on his desk before wrapping her arms around him, giving an embrace he returned. 

“Here, come sit.” He added before returning to his seat. Isla nudged the container slightly forward, causing Harlan’s eyebrow to quirk upwards. “What’s this?” 

“Well now you have a reason to eat cake, so I wanted to share.” She smiled as she made herself comfortable on the chair. She readjusted the hem of her sweater once her legs were crossed over one another. “Didn’t even have to make up a reason this time. Plus, I know how much you like chocolate.”

Harlan was practically drooling at the sight, his hands now pressed together as he stared through the container. “Thank you Isla, it’s very kind. Did your birthday pass already?” 

“No, it’s today.” 

“Ah, how lovely. Happy birthday.” He said warmly, giving the container a longing stare before glancing upwards at Isla. Isla noticed he hadn’t started to devour the cake in that moment, which was strange for Harlan. 

“Thank you.” She smiled back.

“Is that the only reason you came by, just to give me cake?” 

“What, I can’t just drop by for a visit?” She chuckled, enjoying his inquisitive nature. She reached into her messenger bag and grabbed a laminated folder. “I also wanted to give you a copy of my thesis. You did mention you wanted to read it once it was accepted.” 

He practically let out a belly laugh while reaching forward to grab the folder. “Usually when it’s your birthday, you’re the one supposed to get cake and gifts. Not the other way around.” 

She grinned as she watched him feathering through the pages quickly. “Well, you can call me modern. Always going against the grain.”

He seemed partially impressed by the size of the document, and partially regretful of wanting to get a copy to read himself. “Can’t wait to go through this. Does this mean you’ve officially graduated?” 

“Officially, I’ve finished all my requirements. I’m still waiting for my diploma.” She explained.

“Good, good. Glad to hear.” She noticed him eyeing the Tupperware container momentarily before placing the folder on his desk. “Does that mean you’re done with school?”

“I don’t know yet, I may stay in academia. I’m looking for possible PhD positions now.” She said, wanting to stay vague.

“And if you don’t mind me asking.” He asked, pausing momentarily before returning his attention to her. “You and Ransom?” 

She forced a little smile. “Yeah, we’re still together. He’s been very supportive.” She lied. Harlan lowered his brows, having his own inclination. He didn’t keep pushing. 

“Right.” He leaned forward onto his elbows as he continued to speak. “I’ll be honest, I’m still quite shocked at the revelation, even months later. Didn’t think Ransom could manage to be with someone of your wit and caliber.” 

She playfully rolled her eyes at the comment. To say the least, she knew their relationship would be instantly judged when they decided to tell his family. Technically, they never explicitly told anyone. She wanted Ransom to tell at least someone, but he didn’t care about their opinions. He instead insisted they attend Harlan’s birthday party together, that way they’d find out and get it over with. 

She was nervous the entirety of the car ride over. Ransom, on the other hand, acted like there was nothing out of the ordinary. He reminded her constantly “It doesn’t matter what they say” and “Fuck ‘em if they judge”. Though she appreciated the intension behind his words, it couldn’t stop her from being a mess during the actual party. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d expect from that night. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention, at least like Ransom was. Especially since she made an impression last year, she didn’t want to seem like the office slut that was making her way through the Thrombey dynasty.

Of course, she knew Walter wouldn’t be surprised. And considering the way he found out, Isla assumed he hadn’t told anyone. He kept his distance the entire night. She had caught him staring at the two of them at some point. Her hiked breath alarmed Ransom, his attention noticing Walter’s eyes on the two of them. Walter’s lips had curled around his wine glass when Isla decided to turn her attention to Ransom, trying to ignore the piecing stare. Ransom instantly felt protective of her, pressing his hand on the small of her back to pull her into his chest. She giggled slightly as she fumbled forward into his embrace. He leaned down to press his lips against hers, which she gladly obliged. Walter turned away. 

It wasn’t an act, in that moment, Isla had completely forgotten about Walter. She was genuinely content with Ransom’s touch, returning the soft pecks to his lips. By the time she pulled away, her arms were now comfortably resting on his shoulders. She had forgotten about everyone else in the room but him. She felt authentic in his embrace, as if nothing else mattered. Even with the residual sweat lingering from her previous nervousness. She felt calm with him.

Generally, the immense tension she felt from everyone was as bad as it got. She was used to the quick fake chit chat from previous gatherings, but this year no one really came to speak with her. Harlan was the only one who seemed genuinely happy when they first showed up. The rest of the family gave the both of them a couple glares, especially Linda. Isla avoided that woman the entirety of the night like the plague.

“Right, I’ll be honest and say I feel the same way.” She joked, making Harlan’s laugh. “But we both know his dumb facade is just that. An act.” 

“Oh Isla,” He added once he had calmed himself. “Your presence is surely missed at Blood Like Wine.”

“Well you know, internships come to an end. But you’re still stuck with me until Ransom fucks up.” She grinned.

“Should have taken Walter up on his offer for a full-time position, you know.” He began to ramble. She gulped down quietly, knowing no one else knew what happened last year. “I swear the company has gone downhill since you left.”

“You really give me too much credit, Harlan. I doubt filling paperwork and getting coffee was the backbone of the company.”

“No it’s not that, it’s just Walter. He’s been such an idiot since you’ve left.”

Isla was happy they were being interrupted in that moment. She didn’t want to even think about Walter.

A faint knock became apparent, causing the both of them to turn around to the front door of the study. “Mr. Thrombey, it’s time for your heart medication.”

“Thank you, Marta.” He nodded, before glancing over at Isla. “Come meet Isla, she’s Ransom’s girlfriend.”

Isla noticed the way Marta’s lips pursed forward, practically in disgust at the sound of his name. She couldn’t blame her. Marta stood there, her slim fingers practically engulfed by the darkened room. It was hard to see her, other than her big doe eyes. After a prolonged pause she forced a smile, her fingertips playing with the hem of her sweatshirt.

“Nice to meet you, Isla.”

“Nice to meet you too, Marta.” 

She nodded, her forced smile still plastered on her lips before turning to face Harlan. Her facial muscle relaxing into a blank stare before she walked over to him. “Here, it’s just these three pills for now.”

His palm cupped as she placed the pills into his hand. He swallowed them quickly, washing them down with the accompanied glass of water Marta had handed him. He knew she had to wait until he was done before she could leave.

“Oh also before I forget, Isla brought me a slice of cake. I’d like to have it later with dinner.” He handed her the Tupperware container, which she held onto.

“I don’t know Harlan, Dr. Staropoli said you really have to limit your sugar intake.”

He let out a breath, practically in exhaustion. Isla started to feel uncomfortable, as if she had intruded in a private conversation unintentionally. Marta pressed her lips firmly together, almost in pity as she began to walk away.

“I’ll give him a call, see if it’s okay for today.”

They both sat in silence once Marta had left and closed the door behind her. She didn’t want to bring attention to him having a live-in nurse, nor that he now needs to have permission to enjoy a slice of cake. Isla knew his health was slowly starting to deteriorate. That was normal with age. But Harlan was prideful, and she didn’t want to make him feel worse than he probably already felt.

“She seems nice.” 

She noticed that Harlan mentally thanked her. “Incredibly nice. You know she beat me at Go the other day?” 

Isla hummed softly to herself. “Does Ransom know?” 

“God no. That would hurt his ego.” 

* * *

_**Friday, February 16, 2018** _

Her eyelids began to grow increasingly tired. Isla noticed she was willfully fighting with everything in her being to keep her eyes open. She wanted to stay awake but lacked the willpower. Her mother’s soft hums echoed through the room without a predetermined melody in mind. She was practically entranced. Isla just wanted to calm her down. Her palm pressed tenderly along her ballooned stomach, watching as her daughter took in another deep gulp of air. As she exhaled, she had succumbed to her slumber, deciding that it wasn’t worth the fight.

Her small mouth parted slightly as she peacefully slumbered. It was a complete mirror image of Ransom. The cupid’s bow pouting upwards paired with her curled fingers against her cheek. Even the way she slumped her neck to the side resembled her father. Isla observed her attentively, knowing it would be premature to celebrate the small victory now. Just like Ransom, Adeline could flip the switch any moment and Isla would have to start all over.

Isla leaned forward onto her mattress, pressing her lips softly onto Adeline’s forehead. Adeline twitched at the contact, which initially worried Isla. She readjusted her posture slightly, her head now slightly turned towards her mother. But she continued to sleep serenely. Isla slowly let out a sigh before sinking into her pillow. With her hand still stationed on Adeline’s stomach, and her focus fixated, she knew she’d soon be able to go back to sleep again. Although, this had only been the second wake up of the night. Isla was unsure if this would be the last one, since she was seemingly calmer than usual.

It was partially her fault that Isla had allowed Adeline to get used to falling asleep in her bed. She knew it alarmed her when she later woke up back in her crib, away from her mother. It would explain the frequency of her cries in the middle of the night. But Isla didn’t have the heart to let her drain herself in her crib. Especially after they moved out of Ransom’s place.

The first couple of weeks after moving back into her parents’ home, Adeline was practically inconsolable. She would wake up to six times a night, her face burning red at the intensity of her cries. Initially Isla would try to rock her back to sleep, the frustration often getting to Isla who’d have a couple tears spill from her eyes. She was so tired from this back and forth, and would return to her bed in order to mentally recharge. One time she took Adeline with her, and Isla noticed an immediate sense of comfort. Now, Isla had conditioned her to be consoled by lying down with her mother. She knew it wasn’t a great idea, but sometimes she was so exhausted the alternative was out of the question.

She understood Adeline’s sense of peril. To remove her father from her daily routine had to have been a shock to her. It was a shock to Isla, she could only imagine how Adeline felt. Although she probably shouldn’t, Isla missed Ransom dearly. Whenever she’d stare into Adeline’s eyes, she’d be reminded of Ransom’s dark blue hues. His presence would forever follow her, which was practically haunting. But the feeling wasn’t of resentment. She wasn’t angered by the daily reminders. If anything, she was hurt that things were never able to work out.

There was a time she thought they would be able to make it work. Even after the secrecy, the family drama, the fighting. Finding out she was pregnant was a turning point in her life, and with hindsight their relationship as well. She realized she had missed her period a little later than she’d like to admit. In her defense, she was writing the bulk of her thesis at the end of 2016, so her mind was elsewhere. She vaguely remembered her period took longer than usual to arrive, but instead labelled her increased stress as being a probable source. It wasn’t until after she received her diploma that she realized it had been over three months.

She was initially worried when she told Ransom. They had been sleeping together for years, but had been official for the last. Clearly talks of marriage, let alone having kids, was not part of their daily discussions. To her surprise, he was supportive.

His eyes focused on the black and white sonogram, thumbs outlining the corner of the picture as he studied it in detail. “How far along are you?”

Isla felt her cheeks burn slightly, almost in shame. “According to the doctor, I just hit 16 weeks.” 

He smiled to himself, his gaze never shifting from the picture. “Wow. When did you find out?”

Isla took in a deep breath before sitting down on the couch next to him. “I took a test when I went over to Rory’s on Saturday. I wanted to confirm with a doctor before telling you.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” He nodded, turning his attention to her slightly once he felt her sinking into the couch cushion next to him.

She felt like she was gasping for air, practically breathing in the tension from the room. She felt uneasy speaking to him, mostly because this wasn’t what Isla had pictured in her mind. She expected him to be perplexed, anxious, and on edge. But he was everything but. Calm, and maybe even joyous. She pressed her palms onto her thighs, feeling the pressure of her increasing heart rate radiate through her skin.

“I...I wanna keep it.”

He huffed at her, as if offended that she’d even have to specify. “Come on Isla, I wasn’t going to force you to get an abortion or something. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“No, Ransom, I know that. It’s just we never talked about kids, or anything like that. I-I’ve had a couple days to think about it.” She began, feeling her mouth start to dry up as her adrenaline surged. The sweat from her palms secreted at an alarming rate as she continued speaking. “You don’t have to be part of the baby’s life, if you don’t want.”

“Okay, now you’re talking crazy. Look at this.” Ransom smiled down at her, his free hand wrapping around her shoulders to pull her closer to him. He placed the sonogram in between their field of vision. Isla could feel her eyes sting as her tear ducts began to swell. “Of course I want to stick around.” 

She nodded her head, a little frantically to her standards. But her heart filled with warmth at the revelation. “Thank you…” She felt a sense of relief that she wouldn’t go through this on her own. However, Isla couldn’t shake the feeling that this was too good to be true.

“Does it mean you’re not going to Liverpool?”

She didn’t know what to answer, mostly because she hadn’t finalized the details herself. She didn’t know what this meant for her studies and subsequent career. She gave him a shrug, and it was never brought up again. Looking back, she knew this was a red flag, but she wanted to bask in the obliviousness that was love, and this little family that the two of them would begin to form.

He was surprisingly attentive throughout the pregnancy. He went to all of her doctors’ appointments, he helped her officially move into his home, he read all of the parenting books with her and helped with the nursery. He kept insisting that he knew Isla would have a girl. Although she knew the probability of either gender, she was contempt with him being so passionate about his choice. He didn’t even bother looking for boy names, he was so sure of his premonition.

She finally managed to get comfortable on the bed, her neck slightly hunched forward while balancing a bowl of baby carrots on her stomach. The ceramic bowl felt cool against her bare skin, her hand fishing to crunch onto another carrot. Her legs remained sprawled out, so much so that Ransom struggled to find room for himself. He initially hung over her with his knees on either side of her leg, a forearm pressed against the mattress to keep himself up while going for a carrot himself.

Isla’s attention was on the screen of her iPhone, her eyes quickly skimming over the pregnancy update from her phone’s app. “Apparently, the little goober is the size of a head of kale now.”

They practically crunched in unison. Ransom, now happily reminded of the bundle of joy, reverted his attention to Isla’s prominent belly. He moved the bowl onto the mattress next to Isla and leaned in to peck the skin just above her navel.

“You’re back to calling her a goober again?” He postulated with a small chuckle, his fingertips outlining the stretchmarks on her stomach. “I thought we were going with Anabelle, or did you change your mind again?”

She moved her phone to the side that way she could stare down at Ransom. “Anabelle is good, but something about it doesn’t seem right.” She watched as he attentively outlined her evolving skin, causing the smile on her lips to curl ever so prominently. Her fingers, still slightly wet from the recently washed carrots, reached forward to push back the strand of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. “But I think I’d like a name that starts with A. That I know for sure.”

“Well, you know my vote is still for Madeline.” He began bending his elbow while slowly descending onto the mattress, ensuring not to be so hasty as he laid partially on top of her. He rested his cheek onto her bare skin, keeping one hand stationed near the bottom of her curved stomach. His eyes fluttered slightly at the tender touch of her fingers against his scalp. Isla was already rolling her eyes pre-emptively in anticipation for what Ransom would inevitably say next. “That was my grandmother’s name, and it’s a great children’s book.”

It was a broken record at this point, and normally she would be dismissive before brainstorming new names. This time she thought about it for a while, and in a lightbulb moment, had an idea. She knew it would be perfect before she could even move her lips to say it out loud.

“How about Adeline?”

He instantly moved his head forward to stare up at her. He was already grinning. “Wow Hemingway, you really are the master at compromise.”

“Do you like it?” She asked again, her lips matching his grin while he began to nod his head. He quickly turned his attention back to her growing belly, his palm beginning to rub soft circling into the skin.

“I think it’s perfect.”

Ransom was there for Adeline’s birth. Initially he had done great. He was a great distraction from the tedious labor. Most of that night was a haze in Isla’s memory, but she does remember Ransom goofily dancing along to her premade Spotify playlist. She remembered laughing at him, which uplifted her mood. She also remembered Ransom getting increasingly anxious by the end of her labor, and noticeably left the room many times to refill her ice chips. Last thing she remembered before Adeline’s birth was his increasingly sweaty palm against hers as she gripped it for dear life when she started pushing.

Isla wasn’t one to be cliché, but the first couple of weeks of Adeline’s life were practically picturesque. The sleep deprivation and the increase in responsibility were surely tough to handle, but Ransom’s presence was indispensable to her. He had become her rock, and with him she never doubted her abilities as a new mother. He loved Isla dearly, and she felt the same back. They were finally a team and worked harmoniously. Although, Isla began to slowly understand that it was less about her, and it was more about Adeline. Ransom’s love for his daughter was completely unconditional, and he knew in a heartbeat he’d do anything for that little girl. The glimmer in his eyes sparked glaringly when she’d reach up, grasping at his growing beard in a roar of giggles. Isla felt that same kind of unconditionality, which is probably why her relationship with Ransom progressed the way that it did. Adeline had become a fresh coat of paint plastered onto a fragmenting house. Everything looked perfect on the outside, even when the walls began to cave in.

The cracks didn’t begin to show until the lack of sleep made them both increasingly irritable. Problems that had been pushed to the side where beginning to bubble at the surface, and in a way so violent that it began impossible to ignore. Isla was slowly starting to run out of her savings, and she knew it would be a matter of time until she’d have to possibly go back to work. Or at least figure out where she would go from here. It wasn’t surprising that Ransom never understood why she felt compelled to find a job. Isla couldn’t help but feel resentment beginning to bubble at his sheltered upbringing.

Ransom placed his hand against the back of Adeline’s neck, his other tapping against her back. “We literally have everything we need. You don’t need to find a job.”

Isla’s fingers began to feel numb from the hot running water. Her eyebrows furrowed as she continued to scrub against the soaped pan. “Well I sure your royalty checks aren’t as big as they once were. And I don’t want to rely on Harlan’s money to survive.”

“But he’s giving it to us.” Ransom felt Adeline began to shift under his touch. He ensured her head still faced the towel on his shoulder before continuing to burp her. “Why do you think he’s added more money recently, so we can take a cross country trip?”

She rolled her eyes. Her furrow increased as the crusted stain would not budge from the pan. “I know he’s giving us more money because of Adeline, but don’t you think it’s a good idea to be self-sufficient?”

He hated every time she brought up that point. “I don’t see what’s the problem, Isla.” He heard Adeline hiccup, and sighed knowing it would be a while before she’d finally spit up again. He instead held Adeline to his chest, swaying slightly from side to side while waiting out her hiccup fit. “Isn’t that the point of family, for them to help you out?”

“Not like this Ransom, no.”

“Well then that’s not my problem.”

“You’re insufferable.” She heard his steps begin to pace away from the kitchen, heading towards the living room. She went to turn off the water from the sink, staring down at her raw skin scorched by the excessive cleaning. 

Slowly, Ransom began to distance himself. It initially began harmlessly, with him walking out of the room when him and Isla wouldn’t see eye to eye. Sometimes he’d be in one of his moods, hanging over him like a grey cloud. Before Adeline was in the picture, when Isla had her own place, he’d just mentally check out for some time. This normally meant she’d recluse into her apartment until the storm passed. Now that they lived together, he had nowhere to distance himself. So, he’d go out.

Initially it was only once on the weekend. He’d meet up with buddies from high school or other trust fund pricks he met that semester he was in college. Overtime, he began to stay out more often, for longer, and omitted where he was going. And with whom. Isla never pestered him, because frankly she had other things to worry about. That paired with not wanting her mind to think of the worse possible scenario.

His touches were growing infrequent and his kisses were practically rare. She knew he was a man who craved attention and showed his affection through physical contact. She started to wonder how he was able to switch so quickly. One moment he’d be so loving and warm with Adeline, but when Isla walked into the room he instantly got cold, snappy or indifferent. It was like his capacity to love back was completely drained on his daughter and couldn’t offer anything back to her.

Late one night, Isla knew Ransom returned inebriated. She wasn’t sure exactly what he had done, or if he was mixing, but he wasn’t mentally there. Isla had just put Adeline back to sleep, slowly starting to drift off herself when Ransom finally rolled into bed. She wasn’t sure how late it was. She knew it was late enough to pick a fight if she wanted to but lacked the energy to even bring it up. Initially she pretended to be asleep, but his wandering hands began prying at her sweatpants.

“Come on Ransom, I’m tired.” She mumbled softly, but he wasn’t having any of it. He turned her body back slightly so he could capture her mouth in a kiss. The taste of gin was prominent against his tongue. He was quiet, as if something else was controlling his body. He huffed to himself once he secured his position on top of her, thrusting in an arrhythmic manner. Isla kept her lips shut. She was incredibly sleep deprived and couldn’t muster the ability to fake it. She kissed him back passively when his drunk lips would reconnect with hers, simply going through the motions so she could go back to bed once he was done.

That morning, Isla suggested they start couples counseling. Ransom scoffed at her, “I’ve been in therapy enough in my life to know that shit doesn’t work.”

She never brought it up after that, hoping that time instead would fix their problems. Naively. But the coldness never dissipated. She knew in every fiber of her being it was never going to work. She wasn’t sure if this was forever, but there was something about their union that could not be functional at this time. This wasn’t fair to her, to Ransom and importantly, to Adeline. It pained her to even have these thoughts, because she really did love him. So much. But it wasn’t going to work, not unless something drastic change. That being said, she didn’t know how to leave. She couldn’t find the strength within her to take the plunge and call it quits. It was like she was waiting for a concrete reason to end it. A reason that unfortunately came.

It was an especially stressful morning. Isla had just begun introducing single ingredient foods into Adeline’s diet, and wanted to start making baby food puree from scratch. That being said, she hated the machine she used. She had found it on sale the last time she went to the store. It worked, but the electricity would often cut halfway through.

“Fuck.” She groaned out to herself, her finger pressing on the pulse button and failing to hear the roar of the machine. She reached to unplug the machine before plugging it back in, hoping that would help puree the warmed sweet potatoes.

Through her desperate attempts to get the machine to work again, Ransom had walked into the kitchen. He began to brew his morning coffee. Isla, of course, ignored him. Her attention was focused on trying to get the machine to work again.

“Piece of shit.” She called out again, giving the handle of the machine a nudge.

Ransom sighed. “Just throw it out. We’ll get a new one from Amazon.”

“I don’t want a new one.” Isla retorted, pressing the pulse button once more. “This one should work just fine. I just bought it.”

“Things break, Isla.” Ransom said, taking a sip from his mug. “It’s fine, they’re not that expensive anyway.”

“It’s not about it being expensive.” She said, giving him a quick glare before deciding to retire the machine for the day. She removed the container from its base, scooping the botched pureed potatoes into a nearby bowl. She decided to do the rest with a potato masher instead. “It’s about things working when you buy them. We’re not all trust fund babies that can replace things at the drop of a hat.”

“I cheated on you.”

The words seemingly came out of nowhere, but the fact he waited until she was egging him on showed this was something he had been thinking about. Her heart sank when she was cognitively aware of his words. She placed the masher into the bowl before taking a step from the counter. She took in a deep breath, which felt almost like an eternity. She couldn’t find the strength to turn to face him, even if she noticed him shifting his weight slightly in the corner of her eye. She wanted to scream and throw the masher at him. Instead, she struggled to find the words to say. Adeline’s cry was now becoming prominent. She had to say something, her baby was hungry.

“When?”

He huffed to himself, his fists contacting the cold granite. His head perched down slightly, almost in shame that his spiraling behaviour culminating to this climax. Adeline’s puffy cheeks began to flush redder as her howling increased.

“I uh…for the past month now.”

Isla had a plethora of questions. Was it just one girl or multiple? Where was he taking these people? How often was he sleeping with them? She could only speculate as to what those answers were, because she knew none of them mattered at this point.

It was over.

“Okay.” She simply managed to answer, feeling the words croaking within her throat as they escaped. She handed over the bowl of half pureed sweet potatoes to him. “Could you feed Adeline, please?”

She couldn’t wait for his reply, instead beginning to rush upstairs into Adeline’s nursery. She could feel her emotions excessively bubble as she paced throughout the home, her fingers swiftly shutting the door behind her. Instantly the weight of her emotions amalgamated cohesively. She let her mouth hung open, her hands grabbing onto her chest as the tears streamed down. She was heaving, desperately grasping at air while sinking to her knees. He had finally broken her.

It wasn’t that Ransom cheated on her, she had a premonition that it would happen. But this bubble bursting moment was what she needed as the concrete sign it was never going to work with Ransom, no matter how hard she wanted to. Her love for him was never enough. In that moment she knew there was something innate within him that would always be closed off to her. He couldn’t love her the way she needed him to do.

That night she called her sister to pick her and Adeline up. The next day, she was back home in Springfield.

Adeline had the biggest problem readjusting to the new environment. She was used to having Ransom calm her down when she felt restless. Isla felt the disconnect too. Being away from him did leave an emptiness in her chest. It was as if she left a piece of herself with Ransom that she could never get back. This was probably the worst she’d ever felt. If it wasn’t for Adeline, she couldn’t imagine the state she’d be in.

Isla could tell this worried her own mother, who was more vigilant than she normally was. She’d caught her daughter more than once crying to herself, seemingly out of nowhere. She knew Isla was struggling, especially now that she was on her own. She wished she could take the pain away from her. Instead, she tried her best to help with Adeline, especially when Isla was near the edge.

“How is she, did she go back to sleep?” Her mother spoke softly, leaning against the doorframe of Isla’s bedroom. Isla’s eyes, practically staring blankly down onto Adeline. She was completely peaceful, like a marble sculpture. Absolutely perfect.

“She’s sleeping now.” Isla replied in a whisper.

Her mother, eyes plagued with concern took a few steps forward until she stood at the edge of Isla’s bed. She leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss along her temple. “I know it’s a little early in the morning, but happy birthday sweetie.”

Isla forced a small smile, Adeline still prominent in her gaze. “Thanks mom.”

“Here, I’ll bring her back to her crib. You get some rest now.”

“Okay.”

Now with Adeline out of her field of view, Isla’s attention was now on her nightstand. The small white elephant, who’s coloured hues were damped by the dark room, seemed to have ballooned in size. A single tear managed to escape as her lids began to close, the thought of Ransom being curled up next to her providing some calm before trying to go back to sleep.

* * *

_**Saturday, February 16, 2019** _

This wasn’t the first time she’d be away from Adeline for the weekend, so she couldn’t really understand why she felt enormously guilty. Isla felt culpable, almost as if she was abandoning her daughter. All so she could take a trip for a birthday. It didn’t make sense. Isla knew Adeline would be more than happy to spend the weekend with her father. Now that she was parroting words, she’d call out for “dada” whenever the opportunity arose. She assumed this internalized shame she felt was unwarranted. Logically, she knew that. It made sense that she should be able to celebrate her birthday without feeling this shame. But there was something that just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Her thoughts began racing while her hand folded Adeline’s clean clothes, the space between her eyebrows shortened. Adeline had a consistent schedule now, she told herself, which took months of realize. Surely, the routine Saturday morning drop offs at Ransom’s house wouldn’t be alarming. But what happens Monday morning when mommy doesn’t show up? Would Adeline be upset? Would she even notice Isla was gone an extra day? At this point, she didn’t know which question frightened her the most.

Isla took in a deep breath, feeling a sudden urge of anxiety wash over her. With her fingers gripping more tightly on Adeline’s folded onesie, she debated if she needed to sit down for a minute. She hated feeling this vulnerable. It was gradual, she noticed when reflecting back. This excessive feeling of discomfort was a more recent phenomenon. She’d worry a lot about Adeline, sometimes unwarranted and excessively.

In her darkest moments, back when she was stuck in Springfield, Isla knew she had to do something to get back on track. If not for her own sanity, but to ensure she could provide for Adeline. It took a lot for her to put her pride to the side and call Harlan for help. So many times, countlessly, she had fought with Ransom about not wanting to depend on him. Now she was being a hypocrite, she thought. After her bridges had practically been burned by Walter at Blood Like Wine, she knew she’d never be able to work for Harlan. But she knew he was well connected. He initially seemed surprised that she had called him to help her find a job, rather than simply ask for the money. Harlan ended up providing both.

Thankfully, her internship had ended up coming in handy. Enough to provide valuable job experience (paired with Harlan’s recommendation) to secure a job as an editor for a small publishing company based in Cambridge. The job paid well enough that she could comfortably rent a two-bedroom apartment in the city. She could also afford full-time daycare when her sister or Ransom couldn’t care for Adeline, a luxury she never thought she’d be able to afford.

That’s when the guilt started kicking in, when they moved to Cambridge. She was used to being by Adeline’s side 24/7 and would try to overcompensate whenever Adeline felt uncomfortable. When she was at work reviewing manuscripts, her mind would drift off about her daughter. Isla wondered if she had been fed yet or if Adeline was down for her afternoon nap. Isla would often catch herself sneak into the building’s stairwell, beginning to dial Rory’s number to see if everything was alright. She knew the answer to the question before Rory even replied to her. But she always wanted to make sure her little girl was okay.

Isla had made a couple strides since to minimize her anxiety, mostly trying to force herself to let go. Although the days leading up to her birthday did seem to reignite a lot of those feelings. Isla took the onesie, now scrunched up in her fist, and refolded it. She laid the piece of clothing in Adeline’s bag, a deep exhale being expulsed as she laid the fabric down. If her breath continued to dysregulate, she may pass out.

Keys began to rattle as the apartment door swung open, followed by the patter of Adeline into the main living room area. From Adeline’s bedroom, she could hear the keys be thrown onto the kitchen counter followed by a muffled “Go tell mommy we just got back from the park.”

The sound of Adeline’s giggle as she pushed against the slightly open door brought instant joy to Isla. Her balance was improving at an incredible rate, even if she still partially waddled. Isla bend down to her knees as Adeline wrapped her arms around her mother’s legs.

“Hi baby, did you have fun at the park?” She asked, her voice hiking up in pitch as her lips pressed to Adeline’s forehead.

“Slide!” Adeline called out while jumping in place. This made Isla laugh while she rearranged her pigtails.

“Yeah, the slide is super fun.” She added, giving Adeline a tight squeeze before getting back up to her feet. “Do you wanna eat before we go see dada?”

Adeline’s light brown pigtails practically snapped against Adeline’s cheek as she moved her head in excitement. “Dada!” She called out, “Dada slide!”

“Yes, dada will take you to the park so you can go down the slide again.” Isla smiled as she watched Emmanuel come into her field of vision, his torso now leaning against the door’s frame as he watched Adeline cheer in excitement. This was typical, being overly excited after coming back from the park. This paired with the excitement of seeing her father. Isla knew it was only a matter of time before she’d crash and fall asleep.

“Go play in the living room, mommy’s busy right now.” Isla added when she remembered she hadn’t finished packing Adeline’s things. She gave her shoulders a little nudge towards the door, which Adeline quickly followed suit and began walking towards the living room.

“How was the park?” Isla asked when she turned her attention back to the pile of clothes in the laundry hamper.

“You know, same old same old,” Emmanuel replied, walking towards Isla so he could place a hand on the back of her shoulders. “I’m pretty sure she made me go down the slide at least a hundred times.”

“I wonder if she’ll ever realize there’s other equipment at the park.” Isla smiled to herself, her eyes focusing on finding a match for the blue polka dot sock in the hamper. Emmanuel’s hand began rubbing soft circles into her shoulder blade. He leaned forward to press his lips against the top of her covered shoulder.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to do the monkey bars, so let’s hope not.”

“Funny.” She laughed softly, turning her attention to him. She began to lean forward to peck his check, him already being a step ahead by pulling her into an embrace. She let out a small giggle as he began to overwhelm her lips with pecks. She pulled away slightly, feeling her teeth capture her bottom lip. She stared into his eyes, a delicious mixture of copper and honey lightening his darkened features. His prominent brow, now relaxed, perfectly framed his face. His hair, being the same shade of black, with loose curls draping down on his forehead. Her fingertips dragged along his jawline, feeling the rugged sharpness of his growing stubble.

“We leave in a few minutes, Manu. Don’t tempt me like this.”

His smile was warm as he leaned in again to linger a kiss against her lips. “I’m not tempting you.”

“You have me for a whole weekend, all to yourself.” She smiled up at him, her palm reaching to hold onto his chin while her eyes focused on his warm caramel complexion. He grinned back, his pearly whites causing her to forget her train of thought. _Fuck_ , she still couldn’t believe she got to call him hers.

Emmanuel had been such a help, more so than she had expected him too. When she met him at that coffee shop, she had no intention of pursuing a long-term relationship. Especially after the rollercoaster ride that was Ransom Drysdale, paired with the baggage of being a single mom, she would have never guessed she’d fall in love so quickly. But with Emmanuel, everything just fell into place. It was easy.

At the time, she had only been a few months into her new job. She was slowly becoming more proficient with how the company ran its everyday business, which deferred a lot from her experience at Blood Like Wine. She was expected to follow certain rules, meet specific job goals and maintain work productivity. She couldn’t just finish her work and spend her time doing something else. The change in pace was almost overwhelming at first, but she managed to get the hang of it after a while. Enough so that she gained trust from her bosses and would allow her some freedom occasionally.

Therefore, when she suggested she wanted to meet with a client at a coffee shop across the street from the office, they let her. In reality, Isla wanted the change in scenery. She was already planning on getting the chai latte on her way to work anyway, so why not simply work there?

Isla felt a little more at ease as the two of them worked diligently. Enough so that she hadn’t realized time had gone by so quickly when the client excused himself to go to the bathroom. Her latte, which began crusting over the edges of the ceramic mug, was practically cold when she sipped its remains. While gulping the remainder, that’s when Emmanuel came up to her. She held the mug to her lips even after she had swallowed.

“Hey, I’m not bothering you, am I?” He began, almost nervously. She was initially intrigued by his inquiry, paired with the sudden attraction she felt towards him. His smile, although shy, was intoxicating. She felt herself begin to bite down on her lip but managed to stop herself before it got too obvious.

“No, not at all.”

“Great.” He said while eyeing her table. “I’m assuming you’re working right now?”

“Uh yeah. I mean the highlighters and stack of papers could have fooled anyone.” He smiled at her joke, causing her cheeks to slightly blush. 

“Right, so it wouldn’t be too presumptuous to say that guy isn’t your boyfriend?”

“No, he’s not.”

“Great.” He said, his hands now on his waist. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I asked you out? Of course, after you’re done your work. Wouldn’t want to cut into business hours.”

The beautiful stranger was rambling, but Isla found it incredibly endearing. She began smiling widely. She couldn’t even remember the last time someone explicitly asked her out like this. Ransom technically never did, even after years of being together. She always finished his sentences for him.

“Yeah, I’d love to. You have a paper or something I could write my number on?”

He fished for his phone, unlocking it before handing it over to her.

“What’s your name?” She asked, beginning to create a new contact in the stranger’s phone.  
  
“Emmanuel. You?”

“Isla. Nice to meet you, Emmanuel.” She replied while handing his phone back to him. “I’m assuming you’re not just sitting at a coffee shop alone, scouring for women to ask out?”

“No, not at all. I was just in that corner working on a paper.” He began explaining, his attention reaching back to point at his workstation. “I saw you when I first walked in and figured this was the best time to approach you.”

She beamed at him, momentarily looking over at his station. “A paper, you’re a student?”

“No uh, actually I’m a postdoc. I just started a couple months ago.”

She hummed in content, her eyebrows raising at the revelation. “Oh, so you’re doctor Emmanuel. Should have probably led with that.” She grinned. He smiled back.

“Well usually when I tell people I’m doctor Emmanuel they assume it’s in medicine, not organic chemistry.”

“I could understand the confusion. Postdoc at Harvard?” 

“No, MIT.”

“Well in my defense, there was a 50/50 chance I got it right.” Emmanuel chuckled at the joke again.

Unfortunately for the both of them, the colleague had come back at that point. 

Isla internally sighed while forcing a grin. “Well, it was nice meeting you, doctor. I guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes, of course. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Thankfully, she managed to have her sister look after Adeline on short notice. She knew Emmanuel would message her sooner rather than later. She didn’t think it would be that soon, not that she was complaining.

“Alright, I’ll quit tempting you.” He added after a prolonged silence, noticing Isla getting slightly flustered beneath his touch. He pressed his lips to her forehead, his arm now stationed to the small of her waist. “You finish packing. I’ll go get Addy ready for the car.”

“Thank you.” She practically mouthed as he pulled away his embrace. Soon after, the sounds of the Frozen soundtrack filled her senses as they began their routine road from Cambridge towards Ransom’s home.

Adeline, who had probably dozed off back when they were still in Cambridge, was still asleep in Isla’s arms by the time she knocked on Ransom’s door. He opened it, practically eagerly, to allow the both of them in. Isla momentarily glanced over at Emmanuel, who was still in the car, before stepping inside.

When she began dropping Adeline off for his routine visits, Isla always felt a level of uneasiness every time she stepped into his home. It looked like a snapshot of her life, which seemed like decades ago at this point. It was decorated almost identically to when she used to live with him. Including the shit food processor that still haunted the kitchen for some reason. The only thing that had changed was the number of toys that laid on the living room floor.

Isla popped her shoes off, knowing it bothered Ransom to walk around the house with them on. Even if she’d only be here a minute. With one arm wrapped tightly against Adeline’s legs, she managed to place Adeline’s bag on the ground.

“How you been?” She asked politely, glancing over at Ransom who’s eyes were locked on his daughter. He seemed like he had just gotten out of bed. 

“Been okay, you?”

“Good, thanks.” She replied, beginning to pace along the living room towards the staircase. Ransom instead held his arms out, signaling her to pass Adeline to him.

“How’s Emmanuel?” He asked softly as Isla closed the gap between the two of them, passing Adeline into Ransom’s accepting arms. He smiled to himself once his daughter placed her head into the crook of his neck.

“He’s good too.” She replied politely, feeling a general awkward tension between the two as they ran out of things to say. She didn’t pay it much attention, instead smiling at Adeline while giving her hair a small stroke. Isla leaned forward slightly to press her lips to Adeline’s forehead. She could see Ransom tense up slightly when Isla got incredibly close to him. He began staring down at her, but she didn’t pay it much attention.

Isla instead pulled away from Adeline, knowing it would be a while before she’d wake up again. She pushed her hands into her back pocket of her jeans, watching as Ransom pulled Adeline closer into his chest. “It’s about a 5-hour drive to the Airbnb. I’ll probably call before her bedtime. I should be back by Monday night to pick her up. You’re still good to have her the extra day?”

He nodded his head, swaying from side to side slightly before turning his attention to Isla. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Okay great, thanks again.”

“I’m pretty sure I brought everything she needs. If not, you can give Rory a call and she’ll get it from my apartment. Other than that, I think I’m good to go now.” Isla said, looking over at the two of them.

“Okay, have a nice trip.” Ransom said, giving Isla a genuine smile. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

She smiled back at him. She felt a moment of serenity, paired with déjà vu. She started to move her body forward, almost instinctively. She would have kissed him had she not stopped herself. Knowing Ransom, he wouldn’t have pushed her away.

“Thanks. See you Monday.”

She returned to the car momentarily after. She tried to wipe away her tender moment with Ransom, reaching forward to grab onto Emmanuel’s hand once they were on the highway.

“I’m still not sure why you were so insistent on going to the Hamptons. I’ve heard Cape Cod is very quiet this time of year, and it’s so much closer.”

“Yeah I know.” Isla replied, her eyes fixed on the road ahead of them. “I’ve just been to Cape Cod so many times. I wanted to see something new.”

* * *

_**Sunday, February 16, 2020** _

“Please, let me come with you.”

“Knowing him, he probably won’t like that very much.”

“I just want to make sure you’ll be okay.”  
  
“Manu, it’s fine. He’s not going to do anything to me.”

“I’m sure Harlan thought the same thing.”

She signed at him. She knew he had a point. Isla still hadn’t fully grieved his death, so the sound of his name begun to tug at her heartstrings. She still didn’t want to admit he was gone, especially after everything he had done for her. She initially thought the funeral would give her closure, but the thought of Harlan’s apparent suicide never sat well with her. Even in his death, she knew there was something more to him.

She initially thought her inability to find closure was due to her guilt of not showing up to Harlan’s last birthday party. Ever since her breakup with Ransom, she couldn’t muster the courage to attend, even when he insisted she bring Adeline. Isla was being selfish, she thought. How could she be so self-centered, by preventing a man to see his great granddaughter simply because she didn’t want to feel uncomfortable? She’d visit him momentarily, bringing Adeline whenever she could. But she never took him to one of his parties. Even if he kept asking year after year.

Since she couldn’t turn back time, she thought the next best thing that could bring her closure was the investigation. Because of her apparent distance, she had never been suspected by Detective Blanc of murdering Harlan. When she started getting a steady income, she asked Harlan to stop supporting them financially. He was insistent at first, but she was even more insistent. She had no idea a portion of his will was given to Adeline, and thus it was news to her that Adeline was even taken off. When Blanc had approached her, one early morning when she was running errands, he wasn’t looking to see if Isla had a motive. He was looking to see if Ransom had an alibi.

She didn’t know what was worse. Confirmation that Harlan was murdered, or that she once was in love and had a child with someone who could take someone’s life. Twice, mind you. She couldn’t even fathom it at first, followed by an innate sense of shame and disgust. She almost felt guilty, as if it was her fault Adeline’s father would soon be convicted of murder. Adeline, although too young to understand the severity of the situation, noticed a sudden disruption in her daily life. She hadn’t seen her father in months, let alone any of his family members. The last time she had seem them was at Harlan’s funeral, although she didn’t understand what was really happening. All she knew was that mommy was sad.

Emmanuel, who had now become Isla’s everything, was there every step of the way. He was, understandably, terrified of their situation. But he had grown to love both Isla and Adeline unconditionally, and thus knew he had to step up to the plate. He never tried to step on Ransom’s toes before, never wanting to overstep Ransom’s role as a father. But now he’d lost that privilege, so he couldn’t care less if Ransom got upset with him. He wanted to protect Isla and Adeline, no matter what the cost. 

She reached forward until her hand connected with his practically trembling limb. She forced a small smile, illuminated by the dim moonlight. He was scared, she could tell. This would be the first time she’d see Ransom since the murder. She knew it had to be this way, in order for them to put this chapter to an end.

“I’m calling you 10 minutes later. If you don’t pick up, I’m coming in.” He said assertively. She simply nodded her head.

“Okay.”

He took in a shaky breath, causing Isla’s heart to thump in her chest. “Fuck Isla, I swear to God if he does anything to you.”

“I know…” She trailed off, leaning in to press her lips to his. He kissed her back softly before pulling away.

“Okay, go before I change my mind.”

She nodded while letting her thumb lightly drag along his cheek. “I love you, Manu.”

“I love you too.”

She found the strength she needed to finally step out of the passenger side of the car. She was practically clutching her tote bag for dear life as she began walking to his front door. She still couldn’t believe he managed to find a judge to let him out on bail. Even if Ransom was on house arrest until the trial, surely murdering two people would deem a person a danger to society. She could only imagine how much money Linda and Richard threw at their lawyers on retainer to get that kind of leniency. She felt practically guilty even coming over to see him, as if she was feeding into the problem. She knew he had confessed to the murders, he belonged behind bars.

She was hyperaware she was holding her breath once she run the doorbell. Silence settled once she relaxed her lungs. She didn’t hear anything on the other side of the door. She pressed the bell again. Still nothing.

“Come on, Ransom.” She whispered to herself before contacting her fist to the front door.

“Go away!”

“It’s me, open up.”

The revelation was quickly followed by sudden steps moving within the home. Moments later as the door opened, Isla watched as a dishevelled Ransom stood in front of her. She couldn’t help but notice a faint scent of bourbon lingering upon him. His eyebrows squirmed while his mouth held open partially. He seemed shocked that she was even there to begin with.

“Isla?”

“Can I come in?”

He nodded his head while shifting to the side so Isla could step in. As she crossed the threshold of his home, she fought a sudden urge to look back at Emmanuel. She wanted him to know she would be okay but felt the act might have consequently alarmed him instead.

Ransom had practically disappeared back into the kitchen once she was inside. She was tempted to remove her coat and shoes, but knew she wanted to keep this conversation to a minimum. She didn’t want to be here anymore than Emmanuel did. She just wanted to rip the band-aid and head back home.

While following him into the kitchen, she noticed the place had an eerie atmosphere. Children size cutlery and plates, some of which had started to crust at the edges, were sprawled out on the granite island. Paired with normal size dishes, at least one of them being shattered in the sink. She could only imagine what had happened. If she was being honest, she was too afraid to ask. She continued to keep her distance from him, staying on the other side of the island.

Ransom had practically forgotten her existence. He had grabbed his Snoopy mug and begun to fill it with alcohol. His back was faced towards her, his chin hanging forward while bringing the mug to his lips. She couldn’t help but let her eyes trail down to his ankle, a prominent black ankle bracelet hanging on his leg. She was practically entranced by the flickering green light.

“How are you?” She asked when the awkwardness from the silence had gotten too much to bear.

“I’m assuming there’s a reason you came by?” He snapped back at her, placing the mug back onto the counter. He still kept her back to her in that moment.

She blinked to herself as she began reaching into her bag. The sound of her keys jittering caused Ransom to finally turn around. While pulling a blue folder from her bag, he couldn’t help but notice the round engagement ring on her finger. He momentarily went to take another gulp from his mug.

“I guess I’ll just cut to the chase. I need you to sign these papers.” She explained while tossing the folder over the island. He watched as they glided closer to him. He grabbed them, his eyes quickly reading over the document. Ransom stared at the document without saying anything. This, undoubtedly, took him by surprise.

 _Fuck_ , she thought to herself while gulping down. Her palms began to sweat as she instantly got nervous.

“I don’t want to cut you out of her life.” She began to explain. “I just want her to have a father.”

“Adoption papers, really? Don’t you think it’s a little much?”

She sighed, dropping her shoulder in order to slip the tote off of her and onto the floor. She knew she had to be delicate with the situation. This was the first time he’d heard of it. Mostly because he was in jail waiting for bail, to her defense. This extreme action was partially due to Ransom’s recent incarceration.

“We’re kind of in a tough situation, Ransom. I just want to make sure that if something we’re to happen to me, Emmanuel would be there for her from a legal standpoint.”

He continued to quickly filter through the detailed document. She was certain he wasn’t actually reading it, mostly flipping through as he let the request sink in. “What does this mean, he’d be her father?”

“Legally, yes.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He scoffed, throwing the papers back towards her. “It’s absurd for you to even ask something like that.”

She exhaled out before feeling the courage to take a step towards him. She noticed him partially tense when she began closing their gap, instead a rapid surge of fear washing over her body. She decided to stop dead in her tracks.

“I think it’s what she needs. She needs someone that’ll be th-”

“I’m going to jail, Isla. I’m not dying, you know.” 

“I know, Ransom...” She began trailing off. Her eyes opened wide as she felt them begin to sting. Ransom went to take another drink. “But she needs stability. She needs someone she can rely on. And like it or not, she can’t rely on you if you’re in jail.”

He rolled his eyes at her comment. “Oh come on, don’t tell me that Brazilian fuck who’s always going to international conferences provides stability.”

“He’s Portuguese. But I get it, you’re upset.” 

“Of course I’m upset, Isla!” He began picking up his voice, his free hand waving in front of him as he spoke. “How can you ask me to turn my back on Adeline?”

“Because you already did!” She practically yelled in response. Her throat felt like it was closing up, her starting to croak out the rest of her words. “You turned your back on her when you decided that money was more important.”

“Don’t you start crying now. You don’t even know what happened.” His hand covered his eyes, almost annoyed that she’d even be so emotional in that moment. His fingers were now rubbing into his eyelids. She huffed out any air left in her body, feeling a sudden weight of anger and sadness press onto her.

“How could you?” She cried out to him, the words coming out in between sobs. They were beyond controllable at this point. “How could you do something like that? You know you ruined her life, right? She’s going to grow up and learn that her dad’s in jail for killing her great grandfather. How do you think she’s going to feel about that?”

“You think I don’t already know that!” He shouted, causing the silence between them to return. She whimpered to herself, trying to muffle the sound by keeping her mouth partly open. She noticed a couple tears spilling from his ducts, followed by his wrist wiping them away. “That’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

“You really fucked up Ransom. You threw everything away.”

“I had nothing to begin with, don’t you understand that?” He explained, practically mumbling the words in shame. She stood there in silence while listening to him sniffle back his cries.

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, forcing a disgruntled smile. “The moment I lost you that’s when everything went to shit. It’s actually crazy how bad it got after you left. I’ve spent the past two years blaming something else for why it didn’t work. But it’s me. I fucked it up, and it pushed you away. I regret that more than anything.”

She didn’t want to ask if that included the murders, because she wasn’t sure which answer would be worse.

“Fuck Ransom, why did you do it?” was all she managed to say in that moment.

“I don’t know… I just. Everything happened so quickly. Grandad said he was cutting everyone from the will and putting that righteous bitch on there instead. I don’t know Isla…It just happened.”

She couldn’t help but pity him in that moment. Ransom was a lot of things. He was often unkind, self-righteous and mean. An asshole. He sometimes lacked empathy. He was short-sided and closed minded. But most importantly, he was a lost man. He was someone that never knew how to truly fend for himself in this world. It was a real shame, Isla noticed. He had a brilliant mind. She knew had he been given a proper environment to flourish, forcing him to apply himself to the world, he could have probably amassed a fortune larger than Harlan’s.

She could only assume this was it for him. He didn’t seem like he’d want to plead his case at the trial. He seemed ready to spend the rest of his life in jail, helpless of his situation. For some reason, in that moment, Isla wanted to uplift his mood. She only assumed the last time he had heard a joke was months prior.

“I’d say that’s your worse idea yet, but your paintings are really that horrendous.”

Ransom couldn’t force back a smile while they both stood in silence. Isla’s nerves had calmed, in tandem with her emotions. She began to wipe away the evaporating tears that stained her cheek before he spoke again.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah Ransom, I do.”

He took a moment to himself before glancing over at the papers that were sprawled over the counter. 

“Are you happy with him?” He asked softly.

She nodded her head. “Very much, yes.”

He took a step forward and began flipping through the pages. He noticed a couple of them had been marked with a Post-It note. “That’s all I want.”

She stood there, watching as he examined the document. She couldn’t help but wish he could one day find happiness as well. She was incredibly lucky with her life’s turn of events. She could only hope Ransom would also be able to make a 180.

“Do you have a pen?”

Her eyes dropped down to her bag on the floor before leaning forward to grab a pen. She handed it over to him, and he quickly began signing the pages.

Silence settled once more when Ransom handed her the adoption papers. Her eyes began blinking again, feeling tears begin to bubble once more. She was internally grateful that he was allowing her to finally move on.

“Happy birthday, Isla.”

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this has been a wild ride! I kind of went all out for the last chapter, so I hope it was enjoyable :) 
> 
> I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone who has read my story, and for the kudos and thoughtful comments I had gotten over the past months. This really made this whole experience unbelievably fun ❤️Until next time!!


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